Against All Odds
by Outsiders Obsessor
Summary: AU following the movie in which everyone lives. With the Battle of Rose Creek being over, what awaits the Magnificent Seven? Adventures soon come their way and each one is unlike the one before. How will their pasts catch up to them and make them closer as a family? When some old rivals and flames show up, how will that change things? Rated T for eventual violence. No slash!
1. Prologue: I'll Swear I Lived

**Against All Odds**

 **Disclaimer: I only own any OCs that may appear in this story. The others belong to Columbia Pictures. I do, however, own the plot, as it is a complete AU from the ending of the original movie.**

 **Prologue: I'll Swear I Lived**

 _"_ _I owned every second that this world could give. I saw so many places, the things that I did. And with every broken bone, I'll swear I lived." – One Republic's song "I Lived"_

Jack Horne did not die. He lived, and I'll tell you the story how. During the Battle of Rose Creek, he was shot in the back of his calf and fell to the ground. He had saved Teddy from getting killed when the younger man couldn't walk. I guess you could call his actions courageous. Me, well, I call 'em stupid. But, as Vasquez often points out, what do I know? See, Horne had left his gun with Teddy, leaving my friend with only a knife to help him in his fight. Again, I thought this path of action was stupid. Then again, my actions are often considered to be the stupidest and most selfish of all of them. Horne was soon struck by an arrow on both sides of his chest, one piercing near his lung and the other getting extremely close to his heart. From my vantage point, I saw him fall, but I could do nothing to help him unless I too wanted to face death. Unless I wanted to give up on the people of Rose Creek and let the rest of them perish, I had to stand my ground and help my new pack of friends fight against Bogue and his men. So that's what I did.

I had a plan. It wasn't a very intelligent plan as I am told by my compadres, but it works none the less. No one in my newly found family- the Magnificent Seven as Goodnight and I call it- would die today. We all leave Rose Creek alive, rest assured. Goodnight Robicheaux and Billy Rocks didn't get shot in their hearts by the Gatling gun. Vasquez helps to make sure of this. After a few weeks of recovery, we all ride off into the sunset together to find new adventures. The adventures would take us far and wide, and we had fun on every one of 'em. However, if you're looking to read a completely normal and domestic tale… I assure you, this is not that kind of story.

Put my account down now if you don't wish to continue.

You have been warned.

The story of the Magnificent Seven goes from rocky to stable and back again in the blink of an eye.

I see I peaked your interest. You were right not to leave. Our story is filled with friendship, brotherhood, chases, escapes, love, war, gunfights, and what seem to be like miracles. I better shut myself up now before I ruin the whole tale for you. But, before I leave you here to read the rest of my tale with the Magnificent Seven, I will promise you one thing. We all live in some form or another after the Battle of Rose Creek. No tricks, not this time. I've learned by now not to trick those I am close to or care about. That means that Jack Horne, Goody Robicheaux, and Billy Rocks all make it out of Rose Creek alive. And one more thing. With every broken bone, I'll swear I lived, or my name isn't Joshua Faraday. So, now that you know that we all lived at least a day after the Battle of Rose Creek, dry those eyes and find out how. Find out how we became truly magnificent and practically cheated death.

 **Author's Note: Hello, my dear readers! This is the first chapter of what will become a much longer story, so I hope you all enjoyed! If there are any ideas you have for any further chapters, let me know in either a review or a PM and I will try to work it in if I like the idea and can write it with the justice the Magnificent Seven deserve! Yes, the prologue is written in Faraday's point of view, but the rest of the story will be in third person where you guys and girls can get an idea of what each character is thinking. The rest of the chapters will be much longer, but this prologue was meant to be a tease from Joshua Faraday about what is to come in the story. I hope everyone enjoyed, and every review is much appreciated! I would like to thank DjDangerLove and Whitelion69 for reviewing my one-shot** ** _You Never Really Left;_** **your reviews are amazing! DjDangerLove, I fixed Vasquez' name spelling on the one-shot and will not make that mistake again! :) Until the next update, my dear readers! Enjoy your day, afternoon, or night!**

 _P.S. The only reason this chapter is posted so early on a Tuesday night where I live is because today was the first day of the second semester at school. I am a junior in my school's IB program, a program which is harder than even AP, so my school schedule can be quite hectic. This being said, I will try to update as frequently as I can, but there are no promises on when that may be as I never know what my schoolwork may require of me. (My schoolwork comes before my writing!)_


	2. Chapter One: Get Out Alive

**Chapter One: Get Out Alive**

 **Disclaimer: I still only own any of the OCs that may appear in this story. All the others belong to Columbia Pictures and the other respective owners. Oh, and I know that many people consider Vasquez to be his last name, but I'm saying it is his first name because my Spanish teacher says it can be a first name. Plus, Sam refers to Powder Dan as just Dan, and I would think that Sam would use Vasquez as his first name. Oh, and the rest of the story will be told through third person P.O.V. because the prologue was just meant to be a teaser in Faraday's P.O.V. There will be no cursing in the story because I personally have never cursed and do not seem it fit to start now. (Words may be substituted or just simply left out.) Anyway, that's just a bit of rambling. All other notes will be at the end of the chapter. Enjoy!**

 _"_ _No time for goodbye he said as he faded away. Don't put your life in someone's hands; they're bound to steal it away. Don't hide your mistakes, 'cause they'll find you, burn you… Then he said: If you wanna get out alive, oh, run for your life. If you wanna get out alive, oh, run for your life." -Three Days Grace's song "Get Out Alive"_

Sam Chisholm watches as his best friend Goodnight Robicheaux rides away into the night only a few hours from the battle about to take place. And then there were six. Instead of blaming Goodnight for riding away, for calling him a coward, Sam does not blame the man. He would never blame the Confederate sharpshooter because Sam knows. He knows the PTSD that haunts Goodnight is not anything that should be taken lightly or brushed off for the want of others. He knew that Goodnight wanted to fight, but he couldn't bring himself to. He couldn't bring himself to kill more people. He couldn't bring himself to separate more families. He couldn't bring himself to watch his newfound family of the Magnificent Seven die like the men he had served with in the Civil War. And that is why Sam Chisholm would never blame Goodnight Robicheaux from riding off into the darkness of the night where he wouldn't have another traumatic flashback within his own head. Sam had known his friend had PTSD, but Billy had confided in Sam that it was much worse than the Cajun general had ever told Sam before. So, with a heavy heart, Sam had let him go because the warrant officer understood. He understood Goodnight's fears that they may all be dead by the time the battle was over tomorrow. But, Sam is guided by his moral compass- and slightly by his want of righteousness and revenge- and would do whatever it takes to get these farmers their lives back. He didn't want any of his newfound friends and recognized family to die, but he knew the chances of them all surviving tomorrow is slim. With a heavy heart, Sam approaches his "merry band" or "Magnificent Seven" as Goodnight calls them to tell them some news.

Sam steps onto the porch of the saloon with echoing footsteps to see Vasquez, Faraday, Jack, and Red Harvest waiting for him. Jack and Faraday are sitting down while Vasquez is leaning against a post, trying to light a cigar. Red Harvest stands looking off into the distance beside Jack as Sam walks up, but he turns his head upon hearing the warrant officer's footsteps.

"Well…" Sam starts off, only to realize that Billy is missing from the porch.

 _Surely he hasn't left, too…._

"Where's Billy?" Sam asks as softly as he can to not startle the others or betray any of the thoughts that are running rampant through his mind.

"It looks like he's started to drink," Jack admits, casting a look inside the saloon window for confirmation.

Sam turns to follow the oldest man's gaze and finds Billy knocking back what is probably the knife-wielding specialist's fourth or fifth shot since Goodnight had approached him and told him he was leaving. Goodnight may be a lot of things, but he is not a bad best friend and would tell at least Billy and Sam that he was leaving before he ultimately did. Sam watches as Billy starts to fill up another glass before the warrant officer swallows and addresses the other four of his rag-tag team of "strays" as one of the deputies called them earlier in the week.

"All right," Sam starts off, at least knowing that Billy was there to help them fight and that he hasn't left, too.

Fighting with five extremely well-trained men would not be as good as fighting with six now that Goodnight has left, so Sam appreciates Billy's sense of loyalty to them. Maybe the Korean assassin knows something more than Sam Chisholm himself.

"Well… Anybody else want to leave, now's the time," Sam softly tells them, making sure not to sound too loud or offended with the others in his presence because in no way did he want any of them to think he was angry with them or wanted them to leave. "No one'll hold no ill will towards you," he assures, hoping he sounds more confident and re-assuring than he currently feels.

"What about you?" Vasquez speaks up, lowering his head to look at the ground while dropping the cigar from his mouth in the process.

The Mexican outlaw then turns to face Sam, and Sam can see the desire to know more about the others' plans sketched on Vasquez' face. At that moment in time, Sam realizes just how much loyalty and true friends mean to Vasquez de la Vega.

"I… I believe I'm gonna see this through," Sam tells him honestly, and he sees Vasquez' face switch to relief for a brief second before turning back to his usual expressionless state as he just watches the scene in front of him. "These people deserve their lives back," he continues, leaving out what he noticed on Vasquez' face.

 _And you deserve some friends who won't run out on you when the going gets rough…._ Sam wants to add to his conversation, but decides to keep this in his own mind.

Vasquez shifts on his feet, leaning more against the post as he looks around at his newfound friends. Faraday raises his eyes to look up at Vasquez, the gambler's attention being drawn at the sudden movement of the vaquero's feet. Jack keeps his eyes locked in the general direction of Sam and Vasquez, nodding slightly to Sam's statement about the people needing their lives back.

"I have nowhere else to go, so I'm in," Vasquez admits, and that statement both makes Sam's heart feel a bit lighter and plummet further into his chest at hearing how Vasquez admits he has nowhere else to go, meaning he has no one else in his life.

"You know, I knew that tomorrow was gonna be a dark day," Jack speaks up, and Faraday and Red Harvest both turn the attention to the mountain man. "And now that there's one less of us, gonna be darker," he continues, a slight tremor in his voice that causes Faraday's light blue eyes to widen as if he hadn't considered that as being a possibility.

Vasquez curls his lips and Sam can't help but look down at the wood beneath his feet, knowing that is why Goodnight left.

"But to be in the service of others with men that I respect," Jack keeps talking, turning to look at each of them in turn to show that he appreciates and respects them. "Like you all… Well, I shouldn't have to ask for more than that," Horne finishes his reasons for staying, and it is one of the most influential and rousing speeches Sam has ever heard, and it seems to raise the morale in his band of fighters even if spirits had been low before the talk.

Red Harvest nods behind Jack and fixes Sam with a determined glaze, silently telling the bounty hunter that he would be there tomorrow to help fight against Bogue and the other mercenaries. Sam nods his head gently, acknowledging the meaning behind the Comanche's silent offer and re-assurance. Faraday simply looks up at Sam, absent-mindedly shuffling his famous deck of cards and pulling out one before slipping it back in the deck. Sam nods at all of them, knowing that their words or silent gestures serve as their assurance that they would be at the fight in the morning before he starts to head down from the porch where he can go to the church.

"All right," Sam barely says in an audible tone before retreating the rest of the way down the stairs and heading towards the burnt church in order to go pray for strength tomorrow in the battle against the two-hundred or so men that Red Harvest had counted on his scouting mission earlier in the day.

His footsteps echo as he finally reaches the gravel ground, and Faraday stands up as if he wants to go after him, but something stops the younger man in his tracks. Faraday's light blue eyes track Sam as he walks towards the church, and Joshua can't help but feel his heart constrict at the thoughts that Jack Horne's words were absolutely true. Tomorrow would be darker now that they don't have Goodnight, but that is not the only part of his speech that is true. Joshua Faraday realizes in his heart that he had never worked with men as good and pure-hearted as those he was working with now, and it made him feel better about tomorrow. He actually had people who cared enough to help him and have his back, unlike all the years before when he's nearly gotten shot in the back more times than he can count by people like Earl and the stable owner who was trying to keep Jack the man-killing stallion in that corral before Sam bought him back. Red Harvest clears his throat, catching the others' attention instantly as he has been silent most of the time they've known him.

"I'm hungry," Red Harvest states simply in perfect English, and Vasquez drops his cigar in surprise.

"Wait," Jack suddenly says, whirling around to face the youngest member of their group with a surprised look on his face. "You speak English?" the famous trackers asks as if it is the most amazing and impossible fact in the world.

"So?" Red Harvest shrugs and a smile creeps onto his lips as he starts to walk back into the saloon to find himself something decent to eat.

He didn't want them knowing he could understand _everything_ they were saying, and Sam had done well keeping his secret during their travels together.

"You little sneak. We got a lot to talk about," Jack calls after the young warrior, using the same tone of voice he had used with his two boys when they were still alive all those years ago.

Red Harvest simply smiles and continues to walk inside, knowing he is being followed by Jack and Vasquez as two sets of boots can be heard on the floorboards behind him. Faraday remains staring off into the distance, watching anything and everything while wondering what exactly was going through Sam's mind at a time like this.

"Don't walk away from me!" Horne shouts at Red Harvest, wanting to interrogate the Comanche further on how much English he actually knows.

With that, Faraday turns around on his heel and walks back inside with them, knowing that continuing to try and figure out Sam's mind was pointless.

Sam wrings his black Stetson in his hands as he goes to sit down at the first bench in the church. He sighs, running one hand across his head, holding his hat tightly with the other hand as he thinks about the impending doom on Rose Creek tomorrow. He hopes they stand a chance with all the traps they laid and how many innocent people could die if not everything went well or as planned. Sam brings a hand up to his neck, thinking back to when he had been selected by Bogue to be hung alongside his two sisters that fateful day in October several years ago. Just thinking about the damage to his family and the screams his sisters had yelled until the ropes were dropped made Sam stiffen up, and tears started collecting in his dark eyes. He runs a hand over his face, stopping around his eyes to wipe the tears off before going and holding his jaw, not sure of what else to do at a time like this.

"I'll take his place," a voice calls out, and Sam snaps his head up just in time to see Emma with her face illuminated by a candle.

He turns to face her in the doorway and decides to play clueless in hopes that if he does someone will tell him a version of the truth and reality that differs from his own.

"Who?"

"Goodnight," Emma responds, not falling for Sam's feign of not knowing before she continues on. "Just saw him ride out," she remarks with a slight roll of her eyes and a shake of her head, both of which tell Sam Chisholm that she is disappointed in the Confederate sharpshooter for riding away without so much as a public goodbye.

Because she didn't know why.

She couldn't know why.

She would never know why.

Sam just turns back around to be with his thoughts, and he hears Emma depart not long afterwards, hearing her footsteps echoing away.

He doesn't know how long he's been in the church before Jack Horne comes and finds him.

"You all right?" Jack asks, sitting down on the bench right beside Sam, looking over at the well-known warrant officer as he does so.

"I believe so," Sam admits, his voice lower than usual, and he's secretly glad it's not Faraday who sought him out since no doubt the Irishman would make some sarcastic and unintentionally harsh comment about Sam being as scared as Goodnight. "Just tryin' to think, I guess," he continues, turning to face Jack when the mountain man places a hand softly on Sam's knee.

"The Lord's house is a good place for thinkin', yes, sir. You chose well, Sam," Jack praises, patting Sam's knee gently as a sign of encouragement before he looks at the younger man in the eyes. "Do you want to join me in a little prayer for our boys and the town tomorrow?" he inquires in a hopeful manner, and Sam's lips quirk in a smile as he processes the words.

"I'd be honored to, Mr. Horne. What better way to end the evening?" Sam honestly replies with a small grin before bowing his head and grabbing one of Jack Horne's larger hands in his own.

"Our Father who art in Heaven," Jack begins the prayer once both of their eyes are closed and he can think of the first few sentences he wishes to say. "Hallowed be thy name. We ask that you please put a protective hedge around us tomorrow as we fight the wicked men who go against your desires and prey upon the poor, defenseless people of Rose Creek. Please watch over us, dear Lord, and let your light envelope us and help us make the right decisions. Amen," Jack finishes his part of the prayer with a smile and a few tears collecting in his eyes.

"Dear Lord, we ask that you please watch over all of us while we sleep and also during the fight tomorrow to protect us and prevent any unnecessary bloodshed. Please watch over Jack Horne, Billy Rocks, Vasquez de la Vega, Joshua Faraday, Red Harvest, and myself tomorrow by uplifting us and giving us the strength we will need to help the good people of Rose Creek. And, dear Lord, wherever Goodnight Robicheaux is, please watch over him and let his past not trouble him as much tonight as it has for years because none of us will be there to help him. Please take care of Mrs. Emma Cullen, as she now must be in the direct line of danger and we cannot help her like we had hoped. We ask all this in your name, dear Lord. Amen," Sam conducts his half of the prayer, both his and Jack's eyes tearing up as they say Amen together.

"Well, I feel a lot better now that we've asked Him for protection and strength," Jack grins, looking up at the sky before taking out a small cross necklace and kissing it. "This belonged to my oldest son, Matthew, bless his soul. He gave it to me before I went on one of my last expeditions I did before he died," the famous tracker sniffs, handing the necklace over to Sam where the bounty hunter can see it.

"That's real good, Mr. Horne. I'm glad you still have a piece of your boy to take around with you every day. May it bring you strength and luck tomorrow," Sam smiles, handing back the delicate necklace before patting Jack on the back. "Now we should probably get some rest."

"You're right, Sam. Now, in case I don't see you in the morning, may your faith keep you strong and well tomorrow in the battle."

"You as well, my friend."

With that, they head off their separate ways with Sam going back towards the Elyisum Hotel where he and the other boys are staying as free board and food- compliments of the town- while Jack heads towards the fields on the outskirts of Rose Creek where he has set up a tent to spend the night in. They were in for it tomorrow, that much Sam Chisholm, duly sworn warrant officer in Wichita, Kansas and seven other states knows for a fact.

Dawn breaks and with it comes the signal of the bell that Vasquez had worked so hard to repair especially for today.

DONG!

Emma sits near Matthew's grave, allowing a few tears to slip from her eyes as she thinks of how much she wishes her husband could be here with her in this moment. She thinks of the future they could have had together if he hadn't died that fateful day. How they would have had around three red-haired, blue-eyed children that she and Matthew would raise to be good, respectable people that had manners and respect for all types of people.

DONG!

Billy rides his dark brown stallion Hyun-Ki, a name meaning wise in Korean, as he heads out for the fields where he would wait in the trenches with some of the farmers of Rose Creek waiting to set off some dynamite when the time comes. Red Harvest sits in the fields near the corn, carefully threading his arrows to prepare them for battle. While Sam had found him a gun and showed him how to use it, the Comanche felt safer and more experienced with his arrows. This being said, Red Harvest prepared as many as he could, knowing that each arrow he got off was one bullet that could be saved and given to one of the other men in his team.

DONG!

Faraday stands near the cover of a barn near the windmill, biting his lip and offering up a bit of a silent prayer that they would all survive this, his blue eyes closing shut as he tries to focus on the battle that would soon be at their door instead of all the death that could be caused as a result of it.

DONG!

"Thank you for the strength that you have given me," Jack speaks softly, throwing a few twigs over his small fire he had cooked his breakfast on as he looks skyward towards Heaven in gratitude.

DONG!

Vasquez waits inside the church, taking his cigar out of his mouth a blowing a thin wisp of smoke from his mouth as he prepares his nerves for the upcoming battle, praying softly under his breath and inside his own head. Today would be a bloody day, of that the Mexican outlaw is certain of. The bell rings more furiously now in the pattern that Vasquez had set with the schoolteacher who is currently on top of the steeple hitting the side of the bell with what looks like a hammer.

"It's time," Vasquez calls out to the men in the church with them, wanting them to become ready for the battle and not think this was just a drill.

"Come on, children!" the shopkeeper calls out, opening the door to his shop and then unlocking the trap door where they and the women would be hiding during the course of the battle. "Now get on down in there," he instructs, ushering the children in one by one and helping some of the smaller ones down the stairs. "Come on. Watch your step."

The bell tolls a total of twelve times, and the people of Rose Creek prepare themselves for the worst as the signal ends. From their various positions, the Magnificent Seven can see the army Bogue has collected on the hillside with the horses rearing up and looking like they may run through the fields at any given second. Those horses would bolt as soon as they hit the dynamite fields….

Sam rides his horse through the main part of Rose Creek, hoping the visual of him will coax Bogue to begin the attack and lead the other men into the trap he and the other six of the Magnificent Seven had laid in the week prior. They notice his presence soon enough, of that Sam is sure. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam notices Red Harvest take his position atop one of the rooves, bow ready in his hand and arrows slung faithfully over his back. The Comanche's red, black, and white face paint stands out against the brown of the roof and highlights parts of his face where Sam can tell the Comanche is ready for the battle to begin where he can do his part to help out. The battle paint was meant to give him more strength and power, and Sam fully believes that Red Harvest knows what he's doing and will fight like the equivalent of ten men or more. Sam pulls his faithful horse Tornado to a stop right in the middle of Rose Creek, using himself as a target to lure some of Bogue's most fearsome men.

Meanwhile, Billy hides in the covered trench with some of the men of Rose Creek when he hears the sound of a harmonica.

"SHH!" Billy hisses through his teeth at the man, holding up a finger over his lips as he knows they would be dead in seconds if Bogue's men found them now.

The other men put the harmonica out of sight and reach from the nervous farmer before they watch and wait for Billy's signal to them. As soon as Bogue gives Denali the opportunity to yell the starting command, all two-hundred or so hired guns come racing towards Rose Creek with Sam watching them with a steely gaze he only reserves for low-down, terrible people. Vasquez hears them coming even from the church- they aren't exactly quiet- so he cocks his rifle and raises it while holding his cigar on one side of his mouth. He would discard of it later when his bout of fighting began, but for now, he keeps it as a way from having to talk to the men. He's not so advanced at giving pep talks to worried farmers… The steady stream of assassins continues, and Billy dares to poke his head out of the trench to see where their attackers are.

"Masks up," he commands gently before pulling his own bandana over his nose to keep from breathing in the fumes of the dynamite.

"Bring 'em up!" Jack shouts from his trench, noticing a large cluster of hired guns heading his way too, and he prepares to light up the explosives just like Billy once everyone has their bandanas on and Bogue's men pass the pinwheels that the schoolchildren helpfully painted red to stand out from the grass.

The men in Billy's trench shift the way they've rehearsed and he tells them using his hand signals he and Goodnight have perfected over the years. Faraday hides more behind the door of the barn, one hand bringing his cigarette up to his mouth and the other hand resting on Ethel's handle, ready to shoot his favorite gun first to get the desired results fast.

"I'm countin'," Jack announces to the men in his trench through his bandana, so he doesn't know how much they can hear him exactly. "Five. Four," he continues, hearing the pounding of horse hooves and hearts alike as the men on horseback continue charging towards the trenches he and Billy are manning. "Three," Jack nearly shouts as the hired guns ride past the miners' tents while Vasquez watches from the church and Red Harvest surveys the area from his vantage point of being on the roof. "Two. ONE!" Jack shouts as soon as he hears the horses in the corral next to them whinny like a pack of wolves is after them.

Or maybe those are Bogue's men's horses….

The explosion is nearly instantaneous, blowing about fifty men off their horses and into the air. Many die on impact, but some further in the back are lucky enough to get back to their feet and continue running towards Rose Creek. One of the horses in the corral gets caught in the explosion, and Jack Horne seriously hopes that it is not Joshua Faraday's prized horse Jack the stallion. He would never hear the end of it if it was….

"ONE!" Billy shouts out after hearing Jack's explosion goes off, and the dynamite closest to Faraday goes off, causing the blue-eyed Irishman to tuck himself closer to the shelter of his hiding place, throwing his cigarette on the ground where he can put his other hand on Maria's handle to shoot both guns at once.

More horses and men go down, and Jack laughs as Billy shoots him a small thumbs up from the passage between their trenches.

"Hold! Hold!" Billy shouts at the men in his trench, knowing they needed to wait until the aftershocks from the explosion have died down before they make their manual attack on Bogue's men.

The miners begin their onslaught on Bogue's men, tripping the horses enough to where they either kill or injure the riders, setting a few men on fire, and shooting a few of the men who had run by unaffected.

"Let's do it!" Jack shouts out, throwing the covering off his trench and getting his men in position to fire with their guns.

The mountain man begins shooting as soon as he is kneeling upright in the trench, ready to get even with the men under Bogue's control.

"Now!" Billy commands his group as he sees Jack and the other men pop up from the ground like daises would be in bloom during the spring. "Dig in! Keep shooting!" the Korean assassin shouts out to his men as they stop shooting momentarily when Bogue's men get closer.

Jack remains in his position, looking through the scope on his gun with one eye closed, focusing on his target before firing and killing the man with a shot in the chest.

"Here they come! Stand your ground!" he yells to the men around him, not noticing that one man has sat down and is covering his ears with his hands instead of holding his rifle.

So far, Billy and Jack were holding their own well in the field surrounded by Bogue's men.

Sam spurs Tornado backwards into Rose Creek's center when about ten of Bogue's men try to cut him off or shoot him. Red Harvest moves on the roof, putting an arrow inside his bow before pulling it taut where it would be ready to shoot when needed. Sam runs Tornado at full speed, turning around in the saddle to shoot the men who pursue him every now and then as they race past the buildings in Rose Creek. Red Harvest lets loose his arrow and it impacts directly with one of Sam's pursuer's lungs, killing the man instantly and toppling him from the horse. Within seconds, Red Harvest has another arrow in place of the arrow he just shot and is lining it up with the other man, but Emma beats him to the kill as she shoots the man from her position on a different roof. Billy pulls up from his part of the trench, using his guns to shoot a few men before letting his knife skills take over. Faraday sees his chance as more of Bogue's men come pouring towards him, so he steps out from behind the shelter of his hiding place and holds Ethel up in the sunlight before shooting her and killing a man before repeating the same action with Maria and killing another man just like that. He runs a little ways away, looking for more cover and wanting to go to where he and Vasquez stashed the third set of dynamite for just this moment.

With more pursuers on his tail, Sam goes behind the cover of a few buildings with Tornado still running at full speed through the small town. The warrant officer swings down to where he is hanging off of Tornado's saddle, one foot in the stirrup as he shoots at the men trying to box him in whenever there is a bit of space between the buildings. He shoots one or two men- Sam is not sure exactly how many as his blood pumps loudly in his ears- before he swings himself back upright on the saddle, putting both his feet in the stirrups as they should be.

"There's another one up top!" someone yells about Red Harvest, and the Comanche dodges out of the way of a bullet as he readies yet another arrow to take down the man who had just called him out.

Through his point of view, Red Harvest laughs to himself as he sees Billy slash, stab, and kill four men with his knife work before taking the gun strapped on his hip and shoots two men dead.

"Although I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil," Jack Horne starts to recite as he walks through the warzone, not a single bullet even coming close to even grazing him. He slashes one man with his axe, bringing the other man down to the ground as he continues walking in his current path. "For Thou art with me," he keeps going, slashing one man down to the ground before finishing him off and then killing one more man and wounding another one before taking the now wounded man's pistol and shooting him dead with it.

Faraday, meanwhile, runs as fast as his legs can carry him and fires at a man on a horse, killing Bogue's man without even a moment of thinking or breathing. Vasquez watches his new best friend from the shelter of the church before he shoots down three more men who ride behind Faraday and are shouting "Unload on him!"

Faraday hides below a stack of lumber as he prepares to set off the third round of explosions, just as one man calls out to his comrades.

"I got him!" one of Bogue's men calls out, feeling he is closing in on Faraday.

 _Oh, how wrong you are, muchacho._ Faraday smirks slightly at his own thoughts as he hides behind the lumber waiting for the right moment to light them up. _Come on. Just get a bit closer, you stupid cowards._

Red Harvest gets a flaming arrow in his bow before shooting it at two wagons filled with extremely dry hay, protecting Sam with a wall of fire, even though Tornado whinnies a bit a being scared of the sudden explosion. Red Harvest shoots the man closest to him with an arrow, sending the man toppling to the ground as the Comanche shot him directly in the heart. Sam quickly shot off two successive rounds of bullets, killing two men as they tried to decide if they could jump over the ring of fire. Sam shoots Red Harvest a grateful look before riding off to another section of the town, just wanting the young warrior to know he appreciated him. Red Harvest gently nods back before noticing a man trying to come up one of the alleys of town, so the red-faced warrior turns his attention towards said man, an arrow already drawn and ready to shoot. A gunshot would have splattered into Red Harvest's head if he hadn't ducked, but thankfully his high-tuned and animal-like reflexes got him safe and out of harm's way while some of the townspeople boxed Bogue's man into the alley. Red Harvest lets the arrow loose, shooting the man in the back with the tip of the arrow before he turns around and looks all over the town to see where he is needed now.

Eight of Bogue's men get closer to Faraday as they ride for the church, and Faraday can't help but smirk as he pushes down on the dynamite's trigger. An explosion goes off instantly, and Joshua Faraday laughs in the middle of battle, because they _really_ should have seen that coming if he was being honest with himself. That same goofy smile on his face that Vasquez knows means trouble on the gambler is still on Joshua's face as he jumps up and prepares to go and help the others near the church. Red Harvest looks over at Emma and Teddy as they shoot their rifles along the roof, and he sees one of Bogue's hired guns aiming his weapon right at Emma. Red Harvest could not allow any woman or child to be killed under his watch, so he shoots the man in the butt, toppling the other man from the horse. Emma wouldn't know the man had been aiming for her, but Red Harvest himself would know, so he would not have a woman's death on his conscience. Red Harvest shoots another man in the heart just as Sam and Tornado burst out of the restaurant and trample a man underfoot thanks to Tornado's quick hooves. Red Harvest sticks an arrow in a man that's already on the ground before Sam shoots the man with a bullet to finish him off as Tornado whinnies and rears up onto his back legs. Sam grabs a rifle out of Tornado's saddle and cocks it before riding down the street with the longer weapon in his hand.

Jack Horne and his men are running for the livery stable, and Jack sees several of them drop like flies all around him. He picks up a rifle as he yells for them to get back to the livery and then shoots a few of the men that are pursuing him and the people of Rose Creek. A stallion left in the corral hits his chest against the fence as Horne sees Faraday running by out of the corner of his eye, and the famous tracker knows it must be Jack the stallion trying to get Faraday to ride him into battle. Jack Horne sighs, knowing now that he didn't kill Faraday's- or is it still Sam's?- horse. Sam creeps along the porch hiding behind Tornado to creep into the hotel and help those men shoot while Red Harvest and Emma continue shooting at, and, in Red Harvest's case, killing some of the hired guns that keep filing into town. Faraday shoots the whiskey bottle he and Vasquez hung near the dynamite detonation spot and it blows up quickly and efficiently. The blue-eyed gambler smirks once more, holding on tightly to both Ethel and Maria as he prepares to run back and assist someone else now that all of his traps have been utilized.

"Light up that wagon!" Jack yells as he enters the livery stable with no fewer than fifteen of Bogue's men hot on his heels.

Billy runs into town with the men from his trench hot on his heels before the Korean assassin does something only Goodnight has ever seen him do. Billy backflips off the small porch and turns midair and shoots the people running after him off their horses, falling to the hard, gravel ground just as Horne opens the livery stable doors to shoot off their cannon of sorts. Billy just narrowly misses getting shot by a bullet or shrapnel as he hits the dirt to try and cover himself from open fire.

"Head to the church!" Billy yells as he sees Faraday running as fast as his legs can carry him through the long grass that separates the field from the church.

Vasquez shoots a few more evil men as Faraday and Billy continue running towards the church because he knows, however great they are, they cannot run backwards where they could shoot as well. Faraday turns around when he is within sight of the church and shoots down two men, one with Maria and one with Ethel.

"Wagons! WAGONS!" Billy yells to the men inside the church as he slides into the doors of the church.

"Hurry, güero!" Vasquez yells at Faraday as the lighter-haired man tries to outrun the men coming up behind him on horseback. "Andalé!" the outlaw yells louder as he sees the deputy who challenged Sam earlier in the week level up his pistol with Faraday's body.

Joshua Faraday feels the bullet enter his side and he collapses to his knees, sinking his teeth into his own lips to try and block the pain he feels.

"Güero, man!" Vasquez yells out him in an angered tone, because he _told_ him to hurry into the church and _he didn't listen!_

Faraday struggles to get up, only to see one of the scariest sights he believes he has ever seen in his entire life: a vengeance-filled Vasquez running towards the stupid deputy named McCann or some stupid name like that. Joshua manages to right himself before he runs to the safety of the church, nearly flattened by Vasquez as the Mexican outlaw rushes out of the church, firing a shot from his pistol who is also named Maria. The shot topples McCann from his horse as it enters the slimy deputy's back, and Vasquez smiles so hard he feels his cheeks going numb from how wide his mouth is being spread apart. Vasquez de la Vega starts going into full-blown attack mode, because nobody, _NOBODY,_ messes with his new-found family, particularly his newfound best friend and other brothers in arms. Vasquez can't control his thoughts and goes back into Spanish, spitting out a string of Spanish curses that would have made his Mamá make him wash his mouth out with soap. The first bullet he fires hits the man in the shoulder, making him drop the gun in pain. The second, he aims at the opposite wrist, and McCann is obviously annoyed and writhing in pain. But, Vasquez does not stop there, because that would be letting the man down easy. Vasquez shoots him directly in his heart, depositing him into an open pine coffin with a celebratory smile making its way to his lips as he whoops in success. Joshua Faraday decides right then and there that he would never want to be on the receiving end of Vasquez' anger and would never want to cross the Mexican outlaw even if his life depended on it.

Faraday pulls his left hand away from his bleeding torso, finding his whole hand stained with crimson-red blood and his whole side tingles and aches with pain.

"Are you okay, güero?!" Vasquez shouts over the raging battle, just wanting to know how the younger, impulsive man is doing.

"So far, so good," Joshua calls out more weakly than he intended as he fishes around in his vest pocket for more bullets in order to reload Ethel.

Now his right wrist was being covered in blood by the steady stream that seemed to pour out of the side where the bullet entered less than a minute ago before Vasquez went full homicidal on the attacker responsible. _No one_ would hurt his güero, his hermano, if Vasquez Alejandro de la Vega has anything to say about it.

"I'm going!" Joshua shouts over the battle, even though his bleeding right side heavily protests against such a sudden movement, and Vasquez almost wants to punch the stubborn younger man in the face for not staying in the church and not letting Billy or someone go out and get the others.

"KEEP SHOOTING!" Billy yells as he barrels out of the church right behind Faraday, much to Vasquez' relief. "They're trapped!" he continues, firing off a few shots himself.

Faraday, Billy, and Vasquez all work together as a team, firing off hip shots and all other unique and talented shots to take out several more men, all of them grinning like idiots at their skills taking all of Bogue's men by surprise.

Red Harvest finds himself without any more arrows and knows he cannot risk jumping down from the roof just to reclaim his arrows. Regretfully, he pulls out the pistol Sam loaned him with a fierce battle cry, preparing to use a white man's weapon for only the second day in his life.

"Keep shooting, güerito!" Vasquez yells as Faraday drops down to pick up another pistol off of a dead man where he can conserve bullets in both his Maria and Ethel.

Together, the two of them and Billy turn the main square of the town into a graveyard just as Horne had suggested when they were planning, and they have to admit, it feels pretty good to be shooting side by side and taking out evil men that would kill them or the good people of Rose Creek if they had the chance. Sam brings himself out of the hotel, shooting a few men with his long rifle before pulling his trusty pistol out and sending bullets into two more men. Red Harvest, using Sam as an example, pulls the trigger on his own pistol and actually kills two men with it. The Comanche smiles briefly, acknowledging that the weapon did kill like a bow and arrow would, but he does prefer a bow. It's quieter and much cleaner in its kills. Not that Red Harvest is grossed out by the blood, because he's not, but still…

A yelling voice soon breaks out and catches everyone's attention. And there he is! Goodnight Robicheaux comes riding into Rose Creek, rifle blazing as he yells out like a man who broke every bone in his body at once as his war cry almost sounds unearthly. Goodnight aims and shoots a few men as he rides into town on top of Twilight, his loyal and steadfast steed that has served him well for years.

"NOW!" Goodnight yells at Billy, knowing that his best friend and confidant would know what he meant by that command. "THEY GOT A GATLING GUN!" Goodnight shouts at Sam as he pulls up next to the warrant officer as Sam crouches behind a barrel near the hotel.

Within seconds, the first rounds begin firing, and Jack Horne tries his best to get Teddy towards any cover as the younger man struggles to try and get indoors. Red Harvest huffs through his nose, disgusted by the cowardice and lack of honor Bogue is showing by getting a gun to do his shooting from long range. If Red Harvest ever got his hands on that cowering, no good robber baron as Faraday called him, vengeance would be his to give if Sam didn't beat the Comanche to the punch. Jack drops down to the ground, doing his best to cover Teddy's body with his own as he instead pretends that Teddy is his own son Matthew who would have been just under Teddy's age if he hadn't died all those years ago in a massacre.

 _"_ _THEY HAVE A GATLING GUN! A GATLING GUN!"_ Goodnight yells at the top of his lungs as Faraday, Vasquez, and Billy continue taking out some of the hired guns. " _GET INSIDE! Inside, inside!"_ he shouts the command like the general Billy and Sam knew him to be in all their years of knowing the Confederate sharpshooter.

Vasquez doesn't have to be told twice, and he sprints into the church like a pack of wolves is hot on his heels.

"Billy!" Goodnight shouts, tossing his best friend and business partner a rifle where he would have more ammo.

"Hey, Goody!" Billy happily shouts out, though his voice is rough from all the yelling he has had to do to be heard over the noise.

Generally, Billy is not much of a yeller, so it has taken a bit out of his usually quiet voice.

"Move, güero!" Vasquez shouts out as Faraday runs into the church.

Vasquez pushes Joshua out of the way, making the Irishman land heavily on his arm as Vasquez pushes him out of the way. The Mexican gunslinger grits his teeth and sinks his teeth into his lips as a bullet launches itself into his arm, embedding in the flesh and causing his left arm to bleed, though not as heavily as Faraday's side is still bleeding. At least it wasn't his dominant shooting arm and he had saved Joshua Faraday's impulsive, stupid self again. Vasquez starts to make a plan that he's going to have Sam pay him extra out of the gold for saving the gambler's life this many times over today alone.

Sam sees the fire starting to overtake the store where the women and children are taking shelter, and the warrant officer runs across the town, regardless of the danger, because he needs to know he has to help them escape or they would be burned to a crisp within minutes.

"They're reloading! Stay down!" Goodnight yells at the people in the church before noticing Faraday starting to get out to head back into the battle. "STAY DOWN!" he yells at the impulsive Irishman, wondering how anybody can be _that_ stubborn or stupid, or both.

"Get down!" Billy adds in the shouts, just wanting Joshua Faraday to stop trying to be a fool-hardy hero that may get himself killed trying to save others even if there was a plan involved.

"The children!" Joshua shouts out as justification for why he is madly charging towards what may as well be certain death.

Billy and Goodnight offer Faraday cover as he rushes towards the store to help Sam get the women and children out. Once he is within range, Billy begins to toss up a rifle to Goody who has somehow climbed up and gotten to one of the higher levels of the bell tower within the church.

"Here, Goody!"

"Let's go, Billy!" Goody shouts as he continues climbing up further to try and reach the steeple of the church.

"We gotta get these kids out of here!" Faraday shouts to Sam as he tries to find an escape route for them that won't lead them directly towards the hill with the Gatling gun.

And that starts a great scramble as Sam opens the door an starts to gently tug a few kids out of the cellar.

Meanwhile, Jack tries to help Teddy get to shelter, but the younger man can barely stay upright.

"Can't walk," he explains to Jack as he leans heavily on the tracker. "They got my leg, sir," Teddy groans in pain as he tries to drag the shot leg behind him.

"Wrap that leg, stop the bleeding!" Jack instructs Teddy once he gets the younger, more innocent in the way of war of the two of them inside some sort of shelter.

He tosses Jack a rifle and his pistol where at least the younger man would be armed.

"Find some ammo," he softly commands before trying to ease the man's mind. "You did good…" Jack Horne starts to say before a sharp, stinging sensation fills the back of his calf near his knee. "YOW!" Jack shouts as if a bear is ripping into the back of his leg, and he wheels around to find the Native American man named Denali standing behind him with his bow drawn.

Jack goes out of the shelter he hid Teddy in, pretending for a moment that his leg is not on fire and that Teddy is secretly Matthew, the son he lost all those years ago. Another arrow hits Jack directly in the middle of the right side of his chest, barely missing his lung, so it brings Jack staggering backwards a few paces as he holds out the knife he usually uses to skin animals on hunts.

"We are giants put on this earth to rid it of evil and to keep all that is good!" Jack shouts through the pain, not caring that Denali is loading another arrow into his bow.

This next shot hits him on the left side of his chest, nearly piercing his heart, but missing it just barely, much to the astonishment of the giant of a man. This shot brings him to his knees, bringing the knife down with him as he waves it around in an attempt not to cut himself and to keep his attacker away. Jack Horne holds his hands out like he is attempting to strangle the Native American in from of him The fourth arrow splits directly through his hands, and Jack screams once again like something is tearing him apart. He pants as the air starts to leave his body, and Jack Horne tries to hold on to life as Denali loads his bow once more and shoots off one more arrow.

The fifth arrow is intercepted as a figure leaps from the shadow of a building onto the ground near Denali. Said arrow lands in a door, sticking inside with the other arrow being imbedded into it. Turning to his left, Jack can see Red Harvest drawing his bow one more time, preparing to add another arrow into the bowstring.

 _"_ _Come and get me, traitor,"_ Red Harvest growls in Comanche, leaping onto the top of a building to give Denali incentive to chase him and come after him.

The rogue Comanche starts to run after where he believes Red Harvest has disappeared to, only for Red Harvest to jump back down onto the ground near Jack when Denali is out of earshot.

"You're hurt," Red Harvest remarks, looking at Jack in concern as he tries to stop the bleeding on the older man.

"Ye—Yeah. I guess you could say that," Jack barely mutters out, the blood still leaving him as he lays in the dust.

Red Harvest manages to half drag half carry Jack into the same cover where Teddy is hiding before he softly lies the hunter down on the ground to cushion the pain.

"Stay here. I come back when done," Red Harvest instructs, and just like that, he is gone again as he tries to find where the traitor Comanche has disappeared to.

Jack can't even respond, but he continues to lie there, praying that he would survive at least long enough to thank Red Harvest for risking his neck and hide for him.

Denali bursts into the saloon, having seen Emma go inside with one of the injured men. He knew if anything would draw out Red Harvest, it would be putting an innocent woman in danger where she would have to be saved or she would die as a sacrifice for Denali's war. He catches sight of her as she creeps along the top floor, trying to get the injured man to move. Denali begins to run up the stairs towards Emma, knowing it would be just a moment of time before he gets to kill Red Harvest.

As Billy and Goodnight reload their guns atop the steeple, they have a conversation in order to keep Goody's mind off of the current battle and how it reminds him of his inner demons.

"Billy!"

"I knew you'd come back," Billy smirks, sliding more bullets into the rifle.

"You did, did you?" Goodnight asks in amusement, wondering how his best friend knew that. "How'd you know that?" he inquires, wanting to hear this for himself.

"You forgot this," Billy reveals, pulling out Goodnight's hip flask that the Confederate shooter carried on his person at all times, especially during a battle.

"Whoo!" Goodnight breathes, not believing he could have forgotten his flask.

However, even though he acts surprised, Goodnight had pretty much decided almost immediately after leaving that he needs to go back help the Magnificent Seven and the people of Rose Creek.

"All right, let's do it!" Goodnight shouts out as he starts to rise to his feet.

"Yeah!" Billy yells as the adrenaline hits his brain as he hops up to shoot from the steeple with Goodnight in order to protect the people on the ground underneath the church.

They begin shooting down the farther away targets, leaving the closer ones to Vasquez who continues to shoot from inside the security of the church.

Denali closes in on Emma, his face menacing as he climbs the final stair and reaches the hallway she is hiding on with the injured man. She gasps and tries to fire her gun, only to find that it clicks due to not having any rounds of bullets left inside. Denali continues to close the gap between them, his face looking quite ready to kill and Emma's breath starts to come out in ragged gasps as she sees her life start to flash before her eyes. Denali raises his knife and ax, prepared to stick one or both in Emma's skull.

 _"_ _Turn around!"_ shouted in Comanche makes Denali spin around to find Red Harvest standing behind him with a murderous look in his eyes and his tomahawk and a deadly sharp knife in his hands as he looks at Denali with pure hatred.

Denali screams and flings himself at Red Harvest, earning him a thick, deep gash being carved into his right arm as Red Harvest digs the knife in before turning on his heel and standing in front of Emma and the wounded man. Denali yells louder this time and runs at Red Harvest once more, this time being flung against the wall and getting a deep gash in his other arm on the inside of his forearm. He swipes at Red Harvest's face with his knife, but Red Harvest avoids it expertly before flipping Denali onto the floor, wanting terribly badly to end the traitor and coward's life before his eyes. Red Harvest stabs Denali in the stomach, making sure to stab a few vital organs before he whispers in the older man's ear.

 _"_ _You're a disgrace!"_ he whisper-yells in Comanche, thinking of all the innocent women, children, and fellow Comanche Denali had killed before Red Harvest's father, the chief named Little Bear, had exiled Denali from their tribe.

Red Harvest releases his knife from Denali's body before he kicks Denali backwards off the second story and it lands on the table before the whole table splinters off in pieces at the impact. He breathes heavily before checking on Emma to make sure she is okay.

"You okay, Miss Emma?" Red Harvest inquires, knowing his English is a bit broken, but Faraday speaks broken English and he gets along just fine.

"Yes! Thank you, Red Harvest," Emma whispers, and just like that, Red Harvest is gone again, heading to help Jack Horne like he had promised.

He disappears without a trace once more, knowing that the tracker would need immediately medical attention and that he could provide it. The elders in Red Harvest's tribe had taught him how to heal wounds, especially when they learned he would be setting out on his own.

Shots from the Gatling gun shoot the church, and Vasquez ducks behind the safety of the wood surrounding the window while covering his head with his hat to provide extra cover. Fortunately, no more bullets hit him, and just the one in his arm remains bleeding, though the blood is starting to clot and the blood is starting to dry on the shirt. Goodnight and Billy each get a shot in one shoulder or the other; both wince slightly, but they are both hardened warriors and continue on in their fight from the steeple, trying to take out the remaining men on the ground.

"Ammo! Ammo!" Vasquez shouts at the men in the church with him, holding his hand out, but not getting any more from them. "Ándale!" he yells in slight annoyance, wondering why they aren't handing him any.

"This is all we got," the man says, handing him two bullets.

"Ay, yi, yi," Vasquez mumbles under his breath so inaudibly that no one else can hear him.

"This reminds me of what my daddy used to say," Goodnight remarks from the roof as he lies on his back reloading his rifle.

"What's that, Goody?" Billy rasps between the pain, feeling the blood beginning to sleep into his arm from the bullet.

Goodnight just lies there, not answering and looking far into space.

"WHAT?!" Billy demands, hoping that Goody has not slipped back into his PTSD episode that makes him stop shooting.

"Well, my daddy used to say a lot of things, you know," Goodnight quips, and both Billy and Goody crack up laughing, Billy's sounding a bit wheezy as he chokes back the pain.

If they could stay smiling through this, then they could stay alive. They've done it before…

As Sam and Faraday hide under a stack of coffins- oh, the poetic irony, Sam looks over to see Joshua is still bleeding heavily out of his side wound.

"You all right?" Sam asks in concern, watching as Faraday holds up a bloodstained hand.

"Heck yeah," Faraday announces, sighing as blood continues to flow from his side. "So far, so good," he quips like he did when he was talking to Vasquez in the church after the outlaw had shot that man enough times that he looked like a colander by the time Vasquez was done with him. "I might need a new vest," Joshua says with a faint laugh as he feels the material get wetter underneath his shirt when he removes his hand.

 _"_ _Probably a whole new pair of clothes,"_ Sam thinks in his head, noticing how the blood is starting to seep onto Faraday's pants drip by drip.

"We gotta do somethin' about that gun," Faraday remarks, looking out to where it is still firing off round after round.

"Hey. You know what?" Sam speaks up, catching Joshua's attention once more when the blue-eyed gambler's eyes start to close from his body trying to compensate for his blood loss. "We're even. For the horse. You don't own me anything," Sam remarks, and he swears Faraday's eyes sparkle at that statement of knowing that Wild Jack is his once again and that Sam thinks he has pulled the proper weight required to make them even.

"Well, you owe me," Faraday brings up, which makes Sam blink his eyes in confusion.

"What's that?"

"Cover."

And it's then that Sam knows that Joshua Faraday is just plain loco and must have a death wish written in his head and heart.

He and Sam run out shooting the other people of Bogue's army, catching the attention of Goodnight and Billy who offer them cover from above. Vasquez looks out the side of the church as he shoots the man next to Sam while the warrant officer isn't looking in that direction.

"Ándale, güero!" Vasquez shouts as Faraday miraculously swings himself onto a random horse's saddle, not caring right now that the horse is not Wild Jack.

Vasquez is focused helping shoot the men in Faraday's way, not noticing what exactly Joshua Faraday is planning. When he realizes the direction Faraday is riding, Vasquez barely keeps enough composure to not curse in Spanish at the top of his lungs.

"Ay mi Mamá!" he shouts out as he looks into the sky, praying for help from his deceased mother. "Please help me save this idiota of a man who will end up being the death of me as my honorary hermano," Vasquez continues before he runs out into the square, grabbing a random horse and jumping on the saddle, kicking it firmly in the sides to get it to rush after Joshua Faraday who definitely has a death wish.

"Over here! This side, Goody!" Billy yells as he watches both Faraday and Vasquez ride away towards the Gatling gun, knowing that the two men would need cover and a lot of luck more than anything else.

"Ride, Faraday, ride!" Goodnight shouts after him, encouragement which spurs Faraday to get the horse to run faster through the field, not knowing that Vasquez is right behind him.

Between Goody and Billy aiming from the steeple and Vasquez shooting from behind, the three men manage to ward off all of Joshua's attackers.

"Get the two in the back," Billy instructs Goody, knowing that only Goodnight Robicheaux is the only man in the world who can hit that shot from this far up and away.

"I got him!" Goodnight cheers before a barrage of bullets hits him and he starts to fall backwards from the shots of the Gatling gun hitting him.

Billy raises up, trying to grab Goody and keep him from falling off the steeple, but Billy gets hit several times in the chest and he falls down on the steeple. Billy drags himself over to cover, trying his best to not get shot any more. Goodnight falls, but not on the ground. Instead, Red Harvest pushes a giant stack of flour bags in the Confederate sharpshooter's path, but the impact is still enough to illicit a sharp crack as Goodnight falls down onto his left ankle.

"Goody…." Billy calls in a raspy, defeated voice as his eyes close and he just sits there on the steeple before the world goes black.

If this is how a hero dies, then at least Billy has died a hero's death. Or so he thinks as the light leaves his eyes.

Faraday feels the shot to the right side of his chest as the bullet enters it, but it bounces off soon after while Vasquez shoots one more of the men near the gun with some of the ammo from one of Bogue's men's guns. He slips from the saddle of the horse, his hands being too loose around the reins as another bullet hits the left side of his chest. Vasquez screams his lungs out from behind him as he tries to ride forward and pick Faraday up from the ground, but he's too far away and Vasquez knows that would be a suicidal move. He would get them both killed doing that. All of him aches as he falls down from the horse, staring up at the clouds with a pained expression in his blue eyes that threaten to close with each second that passes. With an almost lung-shattering heave of a breath, Joshua Faraday brings himself to a sitting position before he stands and limps towards the Gatling gun and the eye-patched man guarding it.

"Come on, boy!" one of the men taunts from the gun, and Vasquez hides in the long grass as he curbs his impulse to shoot the man for taunting him as Faraday tries to muster up all the strength he can.

That's when they shoot Faraday in the knee and Vasquez almost loses his mind right then and there. They shot Faraday. They shot his _hermano._ They shot his _second chance at a family._ And no one who did that deserves to live in Vasquez' opinion. Faraday falls down to his chest, and he cannot find the strength to bring himself back up to his feet once more. Even if his chest and side didn't ache as much as they did, the shot to his knee would prevent him from rising once more. And at that point, Joshua Faraday realizes he is going to die, that _he should_ die. But he drags himself through the grass on his stomach, ignoring the taunting of "Why don't you just stay down, boy?" as a plan makes its way to his mind. He grimaces in pain before reach a blood-soaked hand into his pocket and pulls out a cigar Vasquez had given him before the battle began hours ago. Joshua puts it to his lips and tries to light it with a match, but his hands are so slick with blood that the match just breaks. The man with the eyepatch humors him and lights the cigarette, and Faraday tries to smile around the pain. Vasquez watches from the reeds, still on horseback, watching for what the güero would do next. When he sees the match fall to the ground, it all makes sense. The fallen match serves as conversation between the two and Vasquez quietly rides into position.

After the Eyepatch Man- as Vasquez is internally calling him- lights Faraday's cigar, the blue-eyed gambler slumps over before said Eyepatch Man can shoot him. Vasquez' heart rises in his throat, and he can't help but think he's lost his second chance at having a brother.

"No," he whispers in the grass, tears forming on his eyes.

Surely he couldn't be dead….

And that's when Vasquez saw a spark and knew what the blue-eyed Irishman turned gambler and gunslinger had in mind. Vasquez gets settled on the horse, knowing that timing would be crucial. One wrong move and they would both be dead.

"Dynamite!" one of Eyepatch Man's flunkies calls out, and Vasquez begins to spur the horse into action, flying from the tall grass like he's a hawk flying across the plains.

"I've always been lucky with one-eyed Jacks," Faraday manages to joke through the evident pain on his face before Vasquez swoops him up on the back of the horse.

Faraday chucks the dynamite, and they barely are out of the major explosion zone when the stick of explosives go off and destroy the Gatling gun and Eyepatch Man's little gang. They ride the aftershock, Vasquez spurring the horse back to town, wanting to get them both their safely.

"Vas?" Faraday weakly questions as the jostling of the horse tells him he's not dead after all.

"Sí, güero. Now, hush. You nearly got blown up and I need to get you back to town to see un medico. Claro?" Vasquez comforts, managing to check Faraday's pulse that seems a bit too faint for the outlaw's liking, but there is one still there.

"I don't feel so good, Vas. Feel woozy," Joshua remarks before he passes out on the horse, and Vasquez can't help but the spur the horse faster to try and get his best friend to the doctor.

 _If you wanna get out alive, run for your life._

And that's exactly what Vasquez does; he runs for town with an unconscious- hopefully only that- Faraday on the front of the horse sprawled out like a rag doll.

 _If I stay, it won't be long 'til I'm burning on the inside._

 _If I go, I can only hope that I'll make it to the other side._

When Vasquez rushes into the town with Faraday, Sam is coming out of the church, taking a rifle from Emma and then coming towards Red Harvest, who has Jack and Goodnight on their respective horses near him. Billy's limp form is being led on a horse by one of the schoolteacher of the town who had found him still up in the steeple. Sam looks at Red Harvest for confirmation on if Jack and Goodnight are alive or dead, and the Comanche responds with two short words.

"Alive. Barely," he speaks up, unshed tears showing around the red and black paint.

"Faraday?" Sam inquires, looking at a severely depressed and anguished looking Vasquez.

Vasquez shakes his head no before answering. "He had a pulse, but now I can't feel one. I may be too late, jefe," Vasquez quietly remarks, a single tear dripping down his nose and landing on Faraday's wrist.

The town's doctor comes over and takes the pulses of all the men one by one before turning to face Sam.

"They're all alive, barely. I don't know how they still are, but I'll take good care of your men, Mr. Chisholm. Proper," he promises with a small smile as he motions towards his hospital of sorts. "The next few hours will be very trying and they will be the determining factor on if they survive."

"Thank you," Sam smiles gently and he helps the others get their four wounded men inside. "Vasquez, Red Harvest, you are both lifesavers, and I am grateful to have met you. Now, I think I will go pray some more during the operations."

"I'll join you," Vasquez softly adds in, slipping down from the saddle.

"Me, too," Red Harvest offers, tying his mare Little Creek up to a post outside the infirmary.

 **Author's Note: And there's Chapter One! Wow! It took me about 8 hours to re-write the last 30 minutes of the movie! Well, that only means one thing; this is about to be a very short author's note because I'm about to turn into bed for the night. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, and the reviews from last chapter were so amazing! Thank you all for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following! You girls and guys rock! Stay tuned for Chapter Two which will come out whenever I have a chance to begin writing it! I hope all of you have an amazing week!**


	3. Chapter Two: Heal What Has Been Hurt

**Chapter Two: Heal What Has Been Hurt**

 **Disclaimer: I still only own the OCs in the story; the rest belong to their respective owners. Also, any song lyrics that appear throughout the story belong to the band or artist to be listed either after the lyric or at the end of the chapter. Thank you so much to all of you who reviewed, favorited, or followed the story! I hope it continues to please you!**

 **For the sake of this story, pretend Jenga was invented in this time period instead of in 1970. That's all I have to say for now.**

 **"** _Make the clock reverse. Bring back what once was mine… Heal what has been hurt. Change the Fate's design. Save what has been lost. Bring back what once was mine… What once was mine." Mandy Moore's song "Flower, Gleam, and Glow" from Disney's movie Tangled_

The sun is setting on the horizon by the time the doctor comes to tell Sam, Vasquez, and Red Harvest the news about their injured comrades. In that time, Sam's voice has gone nearly hoarse as he has been praying more at once than he had ever done in a single prayer before, just wanting his new family to make it out of Rose Creek alive. Vasquez had nodded off in sleep once or twice, his arm wound where the bullet from the Gatling gun mostly dried of blood. The doctor promised the outlaw that he would bandage the gunslinger's arm when he was finished checking on Jack, Goodnight, Billy, and Joshua first. Vasquez had told the man to take his time, that he has had worse and was able to survive just fine. Emma cleans up Red Harvest's cut under his eye with a wet rag, really only needing to use water and a bit of rubbing alcohol, and the Comanche's face was as good as new. Sam had a few minor cuts that did not require medical attention; for the most part the warrant officer just needs rest and for his new friends to heal well enough to where they could go back to normal. Normal in this case is having Goodnight on his feet loudly talking, and having Faraday banter back and forth with Vasquez while managing to also perform sleight of hands when no one was watching. Normal entails having Billy silently observing all of them, rolling his dark brown eyes when Goodnight tells one of his impossible stories that only people who weren't there or were extremely gullible would believe; Jack Horne would read off Bible verses and treat Red Harvest like a son like he did the night before the Battle of Rose Creek. Yeah, all of that would be back to normal and then the knot forming in Sam's stomach and chest would finally unravel and drop out of existence.

Sam turns to his right where Vasquez is stretched out on a bench in the waiting room of the infirmary, the Mexican outlaw lying on his stomach with his arms underneath his head, low snores escaping his lips and Sam can't help but think that the man looks so much younger than he must be. Then Sam finds himself wondering inside his head just how old Vasquez de la Vega happens to be. Was he in his thirties? Late twenties? Sam would have to ask him that question. He'd have to ask _all_ of them that question, come to think of it. Well, everyone but Goodnight. Sam knew that he and Goodnight were only a year apart; he'd been told as much when they met when the Civil War had just ended and Sam saved him from being beat up from a bunch of loose cannons in the Union Army. Goodnight was forty years old whereas Sam had just turned forty one a few months prior to riding into Amador City where he met Emma, Teddy, and Faraday before all of the fighting truly began. Sam simply smiles as Vasquez continues sleeping. Surely, they were all exhausted, and Sam finds himself wondering if any of them actually slept last night before they walked out onto the battlefield at dawn this morning. The medic comes to a stop in front of Sam, and the warrant officer gently nudges Vasquez with the toe of his boot, causing the younger man to sit up and wipe sleep out of his dark brown eyes before blinking at the change in light.

"Well?" Sam starts off, a questioning tone in his voice as he manages a whisper. "How are they?" he continues, wanting to know how his four brothers in arms are doing after being patched up for a few hours.

"They seem to be in fine shape as well as they are able to be with injuries as extensive as the ones they have," the medic answers, his green eyes widening a bit as he recalls the past three or so hours and his hands look like they have been covered in blood for most of that time. "But, most of the time I have been setting Mr. Robicheaux's leg and putting it in a plaster cast since he broke it on his fall from the steeple," Mr. Charles, the medic, continues, thinking of how he had felt the bones in Goodnight's leg and determined that he broke his foot and further up his calf.

"That was my fault. I put flour under him," Red Harvest softly remarks, his brown eyes staring straight ahead as he doesn't even blink at his confession.

"Red Harvest, mi amigo, I don't think he's…" Vasquez starts to relieve his friend's doubt when Mr. Charles steps back into the conversation and does quite the opposite of what is expected.

"Actually your efforts saved Mr. Robicheaux's life, my dear boy," Mr. Charles smiles, wiping his blood-soaked hands on a handkerchief before splashing water over them to try and sanitize his hands before he returns to his patients upstairs. "A fall from that height with his bullet injuries should have killed him, but you were able to cushion his fall and keep him from breaking his neck. Marvelous quick thinking indeed," Mr. Charles praises before returning to Sam's question from earlier. "As for the rest of your men, Mr. Chisholm, I still must go and check on them. My nurses have been doing the best they can at making sure they stay alive and that their vitals remain in correct balance, but I am the only trained surgeon here that could remove the bullets and then put the bandages on," he reveals, and Sam tries not to sigh as he realizes that the process will probably take until dark and that the three of them will have to go through more tantalizing hours of waiting on more news.

At least Goodnight had only broken his leg and not snapped his neck on his fall thanks to Red Harvest…. Sam realizes he really owes the young Comanche warrior for a lot of acts of courage and honor.

"I am a healer," Red Harvest almost whispers, and that statement takes Vasquez and Sam by utter surprise and makes Mr. Charles turn back around as he had been heading for the stairs where he could attend to Faraday, Billy, and Jack.

"You are, are you?" Mr. Charles inquires, a smile creeping onto his face. "We have that in common, then," the green-eyed man continues before sweeping his arms out and motioning to the stairs. "Please come with me then, Mr. Red Harvest, and we can get to work on patching up your friends."

"I will go," Red Harvest directs to Sam and Vasquez before standing up and heading for the stairs. "I must help."

"Good luck, my friend. Steady may be your hands," Vasquez smiles encouragement, tipping his black hat further back on his head where it is no longer covering his eyes.

"I know you can do this, Red Harvest. Take good care of our boys," Sam offers a grin of his own, sitting back down on the chair near where Vasquez remains stretched out on the bench.

"I will. No further blood," Red Harvest confidently says, wiping a bit of the remaining water out from under his eyes from where Emma disinfected his cut.

Emma comes and sits down next to Sam, and the warrant officer from Wichita, Kansas takes her hand and clasps it in his own, just glad to have the comfort from the young woman as she rests her head against his shoulder and falls asleep. Sam runs one of his hands through her fiery red hair like he used to do with his younger sister Sarah's hair. With that, Sam remains alert and waiting for news with Vasquez getting up from the bench a few minutes later to refill his canteen of water and get Sam some water as well since they had been outside in the heat for most of the day. When Vasquez returns, he simply hands Sam the canteen, earning a small smile from the older cowboy before Vasquez places a steady hand on Sam's knee.

"They'll be okay, Sam. I believe in el medico and in Red Harvest," Vasquez admits, locking his dark brown eyes on Sam's slightly darker ones, slipping into Spanish when talking about Doctor Charles.

"Yeah. He'll patch 'em up real good, especially now that he's got Red Harvest to help him," Sam admits, visibly relaxing before he lets his head drift back to the back of the chair.

"Sleep," Vasquez softly commands, making sure to fix a commanding gaze on the warrant officer. "I'll wake you if anything happens," the outlaw promises and Sam lets his head droop backwards where he can catch a few winks of sleep during the surgery process.

"Okay. All right. You win, Vasquez," Sam grins as he jokes before falling asleep.

And if Vasquez draped a blanket over Miss Emma Cullen and Sam Chisholm as they slept upon waiting for news of his friends, well then that was the gunslinger's business and no one else's.

Red Harvest suggests that they start with Faraday first, having seen the state Faraday was in and how worried Vasquez had seemed to be about the blue-eyed gambler's injuries and bare feel of a pulse that was fluttering on the edge of life and death. Dr. Charles begins to mutter under his breath a bit as he has one of the nurses help him take Faraday's vest off to see the three bullets in the man from three different locations. Fortunately, the one that had almost pierced his heart was the one that was slightly deflected by none other than the sheriff's badge that Sam had insisted on calling a "recall" when they took it off of that cowardly sheriff that hid underneath one of the buildings before riding to deliver the message about  
"Lincoln like the president and Sam Chisholm" to Bart Bogue himself. Faraday had snatched the sheriff's badge from Vasquez that night and buttoned it on the front of his shirt, claiming to be the sheriff of the town before chasing a few of the younger boys of the town who were pretending to be robber barons of their own, being led by none other than Vasquez himself. That had been their first night in the town, so the Magnificent Seven decided they needed to get along with everyone in the town, including the children. Joshua Faraday had forgotten to take off the sheriff's badge, and it had saved his life by not allowing the bullet to pierce his heart. The star of the sheriff's badge was dented in and had the bullet directly in the center of it, but Red Harvest's steady hands were able to unclip it from Faraday's shirt before he set it off to the side, knowing that Joshua would want to keep it as a memento of how he had cheated death once more.

Red Harvest picks up on Dr. Charles' hushed whispers to the nurse in the room, and the Comanche knows enough English to know they are debating whether or not Joshua Faraday can be saved or if he is going to die due to blood loss and the bullet in the other side of his chest. He also adds how he has never lost one of his patients before and would hate to lose his reputation over an impulsive gambler that everyone thought could cheat death even after nearly being blown up near a Gatling gun.

"You never had a dead man here?" Red Harvest inquires, his question coming out calmly but forcefully enough that the whispers between the doc and his nurse stop.

"I'm not sure I understand you, son," Doc Charles feigns confusion as the young warrior starts to come back over near his wounded comrade in arms.

"Do people die here?" Red Harvest asks again in a louder voice and gritted teeth, not wanting the other man to miss his point again.

"What? No," Doc Charles starts off before jumping back into doctor mode and trying to save Faraday. "No. We'll do everything we can to save your friend," he continues, motioning for the nurse to help him unbutton Joshua's shirt where they can get to all of his chest and not just the parts that were covered by the vest.

"I need husks," the young Comanche instructs as he looks at Joshua's bleeding torso with the slightest facial expressing appearing on his face as he fears for his friend.

"Husks?" Doc Charles inquires, used to just using bandages to stop heavy bleeding like that coming out of Faraday's chest and along the right side of his ribcage.

"Yes, husks. Tie it tight. Stop the bleeding," Red Harvest slowly says like it is the simplest concept in the world before motioning for the nurse to go and get some.

The nurse goes out and asks Vasquez to lend her a hand in collecting the husks for Red Harvest to use on Faraday. Fortunately, Vasquez knows just what Red Harvest needs and is able to rush out into the fields to get him some before running up the stairs two at a time and depositing them on a counter near the bed where Joshua lies, looking too small and quiet for someone of his demeanor and usual loud, boisterous personality.

"Güero," Vasquez whispers, looking like he wants to help as he tries to come over and assist Red Harvest in pressing the husks against Joshua's bullet holes in his side and chest. "Hold on, güero. We're going to help you, hermano," Vasquez promises, rolling up the cuffs of his sleeves to prepare to help, not squeamish around the blood that continues to pour out of Faraday's side.

"You need to retire back to downstairs, son," Doc Charles softly commands, coming behind Vasquez and resting a hand on his shoulder.

"No! I need to help mi hermano!" Vasquez de la Vega shouts, nearly knocking the doctor on his rear end as he gets too close to the gunslinger.

"What you need to do is let me and Red Harvest help him. He's losing a lot of blood and needs all the medical attention we can give him right now," Doc Charles says in a louder voice, wanting Vasquez to understand the graveness of the current situation regarding Faraday's life. "Only doctors and healers need to work on him right now or he may die. Go back downstairs with your friends and we will come get y'all when we are done."

"Exactly when you're finished," Vasquez glares, his dark brown eyes growing more narrow as he stares at the doctor while wondering why he couldn't help if time truly was of the essence in helping Joshua Faraday.

"The bleeding's stopped," Red Harvest announces, removing the now bloodstained corn husks before dropping them into the garbage bin near the bed.

"Hear that? The bleeding's stopped, so you can go back downstairs and leave us to work in peace," Doc Charles commands, having his nurse practically shove Vasquez out of the room before she pulls the door shut behind him.

"Buena suerte, mi hermano. May strength find you until we meet you again after you wake up," Vasquez whispers luck to his new honorary brother before walking down the stairs two at a time before sitting next to Sam again and pulling the corner of the blanket over himself as Sam has dislodged it in the time Vasquez was outside and upstairs.

He just hopes the surgeries will hurry up soon where he can know that his new family is all right and will not leave him like his biological family did many years ago.

Meanwhile, the doctor and Red Harvest continue working on Joshua Faraday, trying to get him cleaned up as fast as they can where they can take out the bullets and bandage the wounds thoroughly.

"Yes. Good thinking for stopping the bleeding," Doc Charles praises, stopping to wipe a thin line of sweat off his own forehead as he grabs a tool off the table to take the bullet out of Faraday's side since it was the oldest wound and least likely to bleed again before the bandages are applied. "He could do for a blood transfusion, but I'm not prepared for that," he continues, and Red Harvest just nods, knowing that of course Joshua could need more blood, but that would cost them time.

He didn't think that it was because no one might have the proper blood to give to Joshua Faraday. When Doc Charles removes the bullet from Faraday's side, the skin along his ribcage nearly rips and it causes the doctor to bite down on his tongue to keep from swearing at the damage to the young Irishman's side.

"He's gonna need stitches, but the nurse just left to clean off the tools," Doc Charles admits regretfully, wondering why he sent his nurse away at the most inopportune times when he needs her help the most. "I'm no good with a needle with my wide fingers. How is your sewing?" he turns to face Red Harvest, and the warrior's eyes grow wide in shock as he prepares to wrap part of Faraday's chest off with a damp rag.

"It is adequate," Red Harvest admits, coming over to see where exactly the doctor is pointing.

"Well, then, I'll leave the operation to you. Thread the needle and then you'll need to do exactly as I tell you to stitch him up before knotting the stiches closed to keep them from re-opening as soon as you step away."

With that, Doc Charles begins to instruct Red Harvest on how to stitch up a person's side and the Comanche follows each step to the letter before tying off the thread and finishing the stitching. Following the successful stitching of his side, Red Harvest bandages Joshua's side, making sure to apply enough pressure to keep the wound nestled neatly and not to allow contamination in but not tight enough to cut off his blood flow or not allow him to roll over when he wakes. Next comes the surgery on his chest which takes a bit longer due to there being two wounds up there and being closer to his vital organs of his heart and lungs. Eventually, all three areas are bandaged heavily and Doc Charles runs a wet cloth over Faraday's face to try and prevent the man's temperature from rising while they are gone and checking on the rest of the merry band. With that accomplished, Doc Charles rests his hand against Faraday's wrist, checking once more for a pulse to make sure that all of their time and effort was not wasted. A stronger, though still not strong enough, pulse thumps through Joshua's wrist and it makes the doctor sigh in relief before he hands Red Harvest some water in a canteen to wash the blood off their hands before they went to check on Jack Horne in the next room over. One down, three more to go.

Walking into Jack's room, Red Harvest breathes when he sees the mountain man's chest rise and fall every few seconds, though not as steadily as it normally does when the famous tracker is awake. Red Harvest notices that the arrows have been taken out of Jack's leg, chest, and hands. All of the wounds have been bandaged, though Jack's hand looks the worst out of all his wounds in Red Harvest's opinion, as it sliced through most of the skin on the oldest man's hand.

"A bullet, was it?" Doc Charles inquires to his nurse, but Red Harvest cuts him off.

"Arrow," he corrects, having the image flash in his mind as he had lured Denali away from Jack as he lay there losing blood trying to protect Teddy Q.

"Well, we're lucky it missed his heart and lungs," Doc Charles admits, looking pleased with how well the nurses did their jobs in his absence. (Both nurses were young, so he wasn't sure how they would handle so much blood on their first day of full independence.) "He should be okay within a matter of two or so weeks. That hand will be the part of him that will take the longest to heal, I think," the doctor reveals before once again praising Red Harvest for his work. "You did well getting him to safety and bringing him to me as fast as you did. You could make a good doctor, you know," Doc Charles smiles, thoroughly meaning his words.

"No. I'm a friend first," Red Harvest remarks, meaning his words with all of his heart as he places a soft hand on top of Jack's uninjured one. "Where they go, I go. My path is different," the Comanche continues, turning on his heel and heading for the room where Goodnight and Billy are being attended to. "Billy and Goodnight need our help," he whispers, entering the room and heading over to Billy's bed to check on the assassin.

Two down, two to go.

Billy was worse than Horne but not as bad as Faraday, if that is an accurate way to gauge someone's condition in the infirmary. The Korean knife-wielder had gotten hit by a barrage of ten bullets before he was able to take shelter on the steeple, keeping Goodnight's flask in his sights and mumbling "Goody" with what he had thought was his last breath. Fortunately, all of the bullets that hit Billy did not pierce any extreme region of his body; the most deadly shot had hit his left arm and embedded itself in his forearm. Billy wouldn't mind that one as much as he would if it had been his right arm- that was his dominant knife throwing arm, after all- so the trained alley fighter and best friend of Goodnight Robicheaux would be all right after about a week of rest now that the bullets had been removed and the most extreme ones were bandaged. A few had pierced the skin on his chest, but they mostly just sliced a bit of the hair on Billy's chest and made thin cuts instead of the thick mark on his left forearm where the main bullet was lodged. Red Harvest helps to check his bandages, double-checking to see if there are any wounds that someone had missed in their attempt to clean and bandage all of the wounds. Billy would be fine. In fact, it wouldn't surprise anyone if he tried to pull out his hairpin and throw it at the wall until someone let him out of the bed where he would say he was "being useless since he was perfectly fine".

"Oh, Billy Rocks," Red Harvest could imagine Goodnight saying when the Cajun would wake up later in the evening after the anesthesia wore off. "Just let the fine people of Rose Creek cater to us," he would say with a wink while drinking out of his hip flask. "We did save the town, after all," Red Harvest can picture Goodnight say before Billy would shoot Goodnight a glare and then the Korean assassin would throw a handful of mashed potatoes at Goody, starting a food fight between the two of them that Sam would have to come and break up, only for Goodnight to fling gravy in Sam's mustache.

"That should just about do it," Doc Charles' voice snaps Red Harvest out of his musings for later on tonight. "Look, make sure and keep an eye on him. Plenty of water," he instructs regarding Billy before moving over to check on Goodnight, who has been under the effects of anesthesia the longest due to needing his leg put in a cast.

Goodnight had sworn left and right when Doc Charles had laid a hand on his foot and leg, threatening to grab one of Billy's knives or the hairpin and waking the assassin up just to help him escape the doctor's cold hands. Goodnight had been in the mercy of too many doctors during his time on the Civil War battlefield, had seen too much death inside of infirmaries to just lie down and leave his fate in someone else's hands. Hence, Doc Charles had to sedate Goodnight quickly in order to get the Confederate sharpshooter's leg on the mend as quickly as possible. After all, the doctor has heard from Sam that the Magnificent Seven is made up of adventurous, wanderlust, and insanely hyper men that would want to be on the move and on horseback as soon as they could.

"Good. That will do," he comments, making sure the cast is still set on Goodnight's leg, knowing that the sharpshooter would be confined to the bed for at least a few weeks due to the broken foot. "He should wake up soon, probably sooner than Mr. Rocks since Mr. Robicheaux has been asleep for a bit longer."

Otherwise, Goodnight's wounds would heal much like Horne's and Faraday's to an extent since the older man had been hit with eight bullets, though in less extreme places than Horne and Faraday had been shot in. Like Billy, Goodnight had been shot in the left arm, but his bullet hole was in his shoulder instead of his forearm.

Red Harvest and Doc Charles return downstairs after around three and a half hours' worth of working on injuries and Vasquez shakes Sam's shoulder to wake the warrant officer up.

"How are they?" Vasquez asks for Sam as a yawn overtakes the older man's voice when he tries to speak.

"Well, Mr. Faraday's been patched up by Red Harvest here. He has stitches in his side and a few on his chest because the bullet that hit his side ripped more of his skin than I thought. The bullet near his chest actually got caught on the sheriff's badge that he was playin' with when he played with the kids…"

"Only time güero's pickpocketing and sleight of hand actually serves him well," Vasquez chuckles, a smile appearing on his face as his dark brown eyes light up.

"Now, now, Vasquez…" Sam remarks in a warning voice, acting once again like the group's dad. "He thought through his plan and had a bit of cover of his own to keep from getting himself shot worse than he already is," the duly sworn warrant officer says with a smile and a slight laugh of his own, wrapping an arm around Vasquez' shoulder as they both stand up. "Anythin' we can do to help him?"

"Well, you can make sure he doesn't turn over too fast and rip open his stitches," Doc Charles answers as he furrows his eyebrows in thought. "If he tears those stitches, there's no skin that we can sew that onto without making his whole side look different than it should," he makes known, and Sam nods in understanding.

"Claro," Vasquez speaks up before realizing something else that has come to mind. "What if he's in extreme pain? I know he's bound to have some, but what if it's muy fuerte and he can't cope with it?" the dark-haired gunslinger inquires in real concern, having seen people in desperate pain before and not being able to help them.

"Assuming muy fuerte means very strong," Doc Charles starts off before Vasquez tells him that it does mean just that. "I suggest a drop of brandy… or whiskey," the doctor advises before throwing a bit of cautionary word into the directions. "Now, he only needs a few drops of it, about a sip because I'm not sure how much his body can handle right now with how hard his body is going to have to work to keep his blood flowing and his breathing at least halfway narrow."

"Entiendo. I'll keep that in mind," Vasquez promises before a voice shouts down the stairs, almost scaring Emma half to death as she is rudely awoken from her nap she was still taking.

"Sam! Sam Chisholm! I can't feel my leg!" Goodnight's unmistakable voice and accent carries down the stairs as he shouts, and Sam wonders why Billy isn't trying to shut up the Cajun general. "SAM CHISHOLM! I CAN'T FEEL MY LEG, SAM! SAAAAAAAM!" Goodnight yells once more, extending the A in Sam's name to call further for one of his best friends he had met about twenty years ago when they were leaving from their war camps.

Sam sighs before thinking that Goodnight would wake the whole town with his yelling and he then smiles as he walks up the stairs into Goodnight and Billy's infirmary room to find the sharpshooter sitting upright, looking like he was about to shout again for Sam.

Sam groans when Goodnight opens his mouth and calls his name again even though the bounty hunter of sorts is moving to sit on the foot of Goody's bed.

"Sam!" Goody calls out, his eyes wide as he looks down at his foot that is covered up beneath a blanket to combat the cool night breeze outside. "I can't move my dang foot, Sam! Someone must've shot at it!" he shouts, clearly panicked at waking up and not being able to feel his own foot.

"No one shot your foot, Goody," Sam comforts, removing the blanket from around Goodnight's foot to show the general his foot is just in a cast. "You just broke your foot fallin' from the steeple and the doc had to put a cast on it," Sam explains in a soft voice like he is trying to calm a wounded or spooked animal. "See? Your foot's right here," he continues, resting one hand on Goodnight's cast to show the Southern legend that his foot is actually still there since Sam can place a hand on where his foot normally is.

"So, it didn't get blown off or shot at?" Goodnight asks for clarification once more, and Vasquez chuckles before blowing air out of his nose in exasperation at the same question being asked.

Vasquez opens his mouth to answer in a slightly sarcastic way like he is used to doing with Faraday, but Sam responds before the Mexican gunslinger can.

"No, my old friend. All five toes are still attached to your foot; they're just under the cast and the blanket," Sam smiles warmly at his best friend and brother figure, covering back up Goodnight's feet since the cold air is rushing in through the open window.

"Good. I can't be walkin' around with a toe missin'," Goodnight cracks a grin as he laughs at his own statement.

"Yeah, you're already clumsy enough," Sam jokes, causing Goodnight to reach up and smack Sam playfully on the shoulder and then Sam grabs Goodnight's head and "shines" his head by rubbing his dark knuckles across Goodnight's greying hair like they did when they were twenty years younger.

"Sam," Goodnight chokes out, trying to break out of Chisholm's grip as the older man holds him by the back of his head. "Sam! You're chokin' me," Goodnight barely manages to say, gasping for breath when Sam releases him from the headlock.

"Sorry, buddy," Sam grins, making Vasquez laugh at their childish antics when they are supposed to be two of the more mature of the group after Jack Horne. "Are you warm enough? It's a bit cold outside, but I'm sure I can wrangle you up some blankets from your hotel room if you're cold," the warrant officer from Wichita, Kansas asks in concern, not wanting Goodnight to be stubborn and refuse blankets just to catch cold.

He's seen him do that once before, when Goodnight came back to Sam's house to meet his mother and sisters after they left home from war, before that horrible day two years after the war when Bogue sent men in to hang him and his family. Mrs. Chisholm had been rough on Goodnight that day, asking him why he didn't have the sense to ask for a blanket when he knew well and good that he was cold in the spare bedroom across the hall from Sam's room. Goodnight learned to never lie to Mrs. Chisholm or to Sam again when they both told him that he needed to tell someone if something was bothering him where he could get some help. Goody smiles and then responds to Sam's question honestly, the past memory still on his mind as he answers.

"I don't know yet," Goodnight remarks, his voice still a little groggy with sleep and the effects of the anesthesia. "How are you boys?" the sharpshooter asks, looking from Sam to Vasquez and Red Harvest who are standing closer to Billy's bed and the door, respectively.

"We're fine," Vasquez answers, shooting a look over to see Red Harvest nodding his head along to the statement.

"Where's Billy?" Goodnight inquires, panic filling his voice slightly as he thinks of his best friend and brother under the sun being hurt or worse on the steeple where they had been shot at and shot down.

"Billy's right here, amigo," Vasquez answers evenly, patting the edge of the bed where Billy is still sleeping, his breaths coming out soft and even.

"How is he?" Goodnight presses further, wanting to know how the man who he regarded deeply as a brother and a protector is doing.

"Well," Sam starts off, not quite sure the extensiveness of Billy's injuries since Goodnight had started screaming for them while the doctor was explaining their injuries.

"How is he?" Goodnight Robicheaux demands again, his voice getting closer to a growl as he just wants a straight answer from someone for once.

He's tired of all the twisted lies that people tell him in places like this. Places where he thought he was safe….

"I helped bandage his wounds…." Red Harvest begins, pausing to think in English instead of Comanche, only to be cut off by Goody's yelling once more.

"HOW IS HE?!" Goodnight yells this time, looking ready to leap out of the bed and grab the doctor by the collar of his shirt once he found him.

"He was asleep until you woke him," Billy quips as he opens his dark brown eyes that still feel heavy from sleep and needing rest.

"Billy, if I wasn't so happy to hear that voice of yours, you'd be in for an earful for your sassy attitude," Goodnight teases, fixing Billy with an icy glare.

"You wouldn't hurt me, Goody. I'm your brother under the sun and the only one who knows about your dreams," Billy smiles as he knows he has won this battle of wits.

"You win this round, Billy, but I'll come up with something next time," Goodnight laughs good-naturedly.

"I'd like to see that," Billy smirks, and Goodnight throws his spare pillow at Billy, hitting the Korean man in the head.

Billy throws the pillow back at Goodnight, slamming it against Goody's face, particularly his nose. Sam grabs the pillow as he confiscates it and puts it over on the drawer, out of reach of the two best friends that seem to think it best to argue and rough-house even when they are both confined to the bed with bullet injuries.

"Stop behaving like children, or I'll make the doc put ya in separate rooms," Sam threatens with a bit of a smile forming on his face. "Now, we gotta go see Horne and Faraday, so y'all act civil in here or I'll send Miss Emma up here to put you two in your places," he laughs upon seeing their faces get paler at the mention of sending Emma upstairs to get them to behave.

Emma Cullen could be a very scary woman when she wants to be…

Red Harvest, Vasquez, and Sam knock quietly on the door to Jack's room, not wanting to barge in if the oldest member of their group was still asleep.

"Come in," Jack Horne calls in his overly high-pitched voice, and Red Harvest opens the door to reveal Jack sitting up in bed looking at his Bible with a grin on his face. "Our prayers worked, Sam," Jack grins, showing all of his teeth as his dark brown eyes sparkle.

"Indeed, they did, Jack," Sam grins, gently clapping Horne over his least injured shoulder.

They fought together twice in the Battle of Rose Creek, so Sam feels he can drop the formality of Mr. Horne and just call the man by his first name.

"I'm glad to know you boys are safe," Jack continues grinning before he raises his head to look up at the roof, knowing that he is intending to look at the sky. "I think the Good Lord decided it was right for all of us to live since we were decent people in trying to save these good people of Rose Creek. He believed we needed a second chance at living," Horne remarks, eyes closing as he sends a silent prayer to the heavens.

"Sí," Vasquez agrees. "We asked for forgiveness and He granted it to us," the outlaw grins, his dark eyes getting a little wetter with unshed tears as he knows his prayer to his mother also worked. "The others are doing well, Jack," he reveals, seeing the unasked question forming on the older man's lips.

"That's a gift in itself," Jack comments before catching sight of Red Harvest out of the corner of his eyes. "Red Harvest, come here, son," the mountain man commands softly, patting the part of the bed near his right side to invite the Comanche to come closer.

Red Harvest comes closer, kneeling down next to the bed where he does not injure Jack further by actually sitting on the bed.

"I did something wrong?" Red Harvest inquires in concern and shock, not knowing why else the tracker would want to talk with him since he has been known to kill other Native Americans before meeting Red Harvest.

Now, the young warrior knows that Jack Horne would not kill him, but he would be lying if he said the slight fear of white men wasn't still there. After all, he had seen them burn and pillage the tribes near his family, and Red Harvest had learned at a young age to be wary of the world around him, no matter how comfortable the situation. But, he's learning to let his guard down around these six men; they seem to respect and support him, a trait Red Harvest did not know these particular men would have towards a young Comanche.

"I may have killed three hundred Crow…" Jack starts off in a whisper, his voice catching as he thinks of what exactly he wants to say to Red Harvest. "But, they were evil, wicked men. Some of them killed my family, and that made me want revenge on all of them. But, you," he stops again, swallowing the small lump in his throat. "You are different, Red Harvest. You are kind, compassionate, and your heart is just so big and caring for the people around you. We were probably a scary group of people to be with at first- and I know you almost strangled Faraday that first night we all made camp together a few days from town- but you learned to get along with all of us and not be afraid," Jack Horne continues, his eyes threatening to tear up with each passing second. "And then, earlier today, you saved me. You saved me, son, when you could have gotten yourself killed. And I'll never stop being thankful for that and for the bravery you showed. I'd like to think of you as my boy I lost all those years ago grown up. Ya know, he had a head full of black hair like yours that he got from his Mama," Horne trails off, not sure of what else to say or if Red Harvest even _wants_ him to say anymore.

"Thank you. I would like to be your son, Jack Horne," Red Harvest smiles, his mind thinking in Comanche and then switching to English when he goes to speak. "You are noble, caring, and have a large heart that cares for man and animal," the youngest of the Magnificent Seven keeps talking, and Sam stifles back a slight sigh of contentment as he watches the oldest member and the youngest member of their merry band interact like father and son. Sam knows it would be a beneficial relationship for both men; Jack would get one of his sons back and Red Harvest would have the attention of a father since he left his own father Little Bear back at the Comanche's homeland.

"Really? I don't—I can't believe that!" Jack says in excitement, not remembering at that moment that Red Harvest takes everything literally and not as an expression since he is still learning English.

"I'm serious. I am not just saying that to be nice," Red Harvest reveals, not getting that Jack just is using that way of wording as an expression. "I am serious," he repeats again, wanting to make his point clear to the famous tracker.

"I know you are, son," Jack smiles, rubbing his good hand over Red Harvest's wrist like he used to do when his sons Matthew and William were young boys. "Now, why don't you say we talk a bit and let Sam and Vasquez here check on Faraday to see if he's awake yet and wants any supper since that boy seems to always be hungry," he laughs, again patting the side of the bed; this time Red Harvest climbs up into the bed and sits at the foot of the bed, looking straight at Jack Horne with a smile.

"Yes, ahpʉ," Red Harvest grins, grabbing the spare pillow and moving to prop Jack's leg up on said pillow.

"What did you just call me?"

"Father."

"Well, how do you say son?" Horne grins from ear to ear, glad to know the young man is viewing him as such a father figure.

"Tua," Red Harvest responds just as quickly, not even hesitating once the question leaves Jack's lips.

"Tua. I like that. Red Harvest, my tua."

"Well, I guess we'll leave you two to talk where we can check on Faraday," Sam draws their attention, and Jack waves his good hand after their unofficial leader.

"Mr. Chisholm," Emma calls as she comes into the room, having looked all over the top floor for Sam.

"Miss Emma, I think we're past the stage of you having to call me Mr. Chisholm," Sam smiles warmly at the young lady, knowing if he didn't put away such formalities Emma would feel obliged to keep calling him that for the rest of their time in Rose Creek.

"Sam, I need a bit of help carrying the food up for Goodnight, Billy, Jack, and Faraday. Mrs. Thomas and I made quite a bit of food for them and the three of you as a first sort of welcome gift for saving the town," Emma admits, casting her gaze down at her shoes as she stumbles a bit over her wording to Sam.

"That sounds amazing, Miss Emma. Of course I'd like to help," Sam grins, walking towards the stairs with Emma beside him. "Vasquez, are you gonna-" he starts to question before getting his answer.

"I'm going to go and check on the güero," Vasquez admits, walking down to the room at the end of the hall to see Joshua Faraday and see if he is awake yet.

Vasquez offers up a silent prayer before going into Joshua's room, expecting to see the blue-eyed gambler sitting up in bed, cracking jokes and demanding he be set free and that he shouldn't be confined for a silly injury.

Instead, Vasquez walks into the infirmary room and finds Faraday still unconscious on the bed, head slumped over and with his light brown hair sticking to his face due to sweat gathering on his face because of a slight fever. Vasquez pulls a chair up next to the bed from the other side of the bed, sitting down next to where Faraday is lying sprawled out with blood-soaked bandages covering his side and chest. The outlaw can see a slight scratch on Joshua's face, but it is nothing too serious and would heal on its own after a day or two.

"Come on. Wake up," Vasquez whispers to Joshua, not wanting to alert the man so suddenly that he tried to bolt out of bed and tear the stitches open. "Wake up!" Vasquez yells this time, seeming desperate and not caring how he feels.

He would not lose another brother and best friend that he cared for deeply. Not after what happened to Josué….

"Come on," Vasquez whispers, looking first at Faraday (whose blue eyes are still closed) before covering his own brown eyes with his hands "Wake up, güero. Please wake up soon."

"Vasquez…." Faraday begins to speak slowly, working up his voice as it comes out a little more than a rasp with the first word.

"Faraday!" Vasquez shouts, moving to tackle his best friend before remembering that Doc Charles told them to make sure Joshua Faraday took it easy for a while he is still recovering. "I am so glad you're alive! I mean- I'm glad you're awake now, hermano" he excitedly says before changing into a nonchalant tone that he uses around most people.

"I—I don't know where I am," Joshua admits, blinking his light blue eyes rapidly as he tries to readjust to the new light in the room. "What's happening?" Faraday inquires, not sure why he is in a room if a battle is continuing to rage on between Bogue's men outside in Rose Creek.

He realizes that he shouldn't be here. He realizes that his side and chest ache something awful and that he needs to turn over onto his other side or his stomach to try and alleviate some of his own pain as it shoots up from his torso and through his chest. Then he realizes that there's a sharp pain in his leg where Eyepatch Man's goon had shot him before he threw the dynamite at the Gatling gun. The Gatling gun…. Then, if he remembered that…. How was he still alive to think about it? Didn't he blow himself up trying to save the people of Rose Creek? Hadn't he…?

"No," Vasquez softly commands, gently pressing his hands against Joshua's arms to hold him still as he tries to roll over.

"Hurts," Faraday complains, his voice soft and shaky.

"I'm sure it does, mi amigo," the Mexican outlaw sighs, not wanting to put his friend through any extra pain, but Vasquez knows he cannot let Faraday rip open the stitches. "But, you have stitches in that side. Entiendes?" Vasquez inquires, wanting Joshua Faraday to understand that he was still alive and mostly well with the exception of the few bullet holes that had riddled his body and put him in the excruciating pain he is in right now.

"Stitches?" Faraday groans, his head slumping back on the pillow as another wave of pain spikes through his side as it was the worst of his wounds and feeling like it was being set on fire. "Oh, no," he says again, blue eyes closing as he grips the pillow with closed hands, realizing that this means he'll be immobile for weeks on end waiting for the stitches to fix his side to where he would be well enough to be up and moving around.

"Sí," Vasquez speaks up, not wanting Faraday to forget that he was sitting there beside him. "It was the only way to get your side in one piece," he explains, motioning down to Joshua's right side that has fortunately stopped bleeding, but the bandages are still soaked in blood from earlier when the blood flow had been as constant and fast as a rushing river.

Only this wasn't a calming sensation like the river's rush would be; this made Joshua feel like he is going to vomit any moment as the world spins around him and as the pain shoots up and down his body like a pack of wild animals is ripping into his flesh.

They sit there in silence for a moment, Faraday's light blue eyes opening and closing every once and a while as he tries to fight sleep, tries to fight going back into the darkness in fear that he will never re-emerge from the blackness that almost swallowed him whole. _Would_ have swallowed him whole if it wasn't for Vasquez….. With that, Joshua Faraday finds himself wondering if Goodnight feels like this when he is going through one of his post-traumatic stress panic attacks. If so, then Faraday honestly feels he owes the legend an apology for acting like such a bully to him earlier in the week, goading him into shooting the rifle to show off in front of those farmers. If this is how Goodnight feels every day and night and how he has felt every day for years, then Faraday is sincerely hoping that this sensation leaves him soon, that it would leave both of them soon. Joshua knows he cannot handle the sensation of the darkness creeping around him, threatening to envelope him in its deadly blanket that would smother his light if given the chance.

"You know what I need, Vas?" Joshua inquires, his voice gaining a bit of its usual strength as he lets his breath regulate for a minute where it does not hurt or strain his ribs to breathe once.

"What would that be, Faraday?" Vasquez inquires with concern laced on all of his facial features, and the lack of the word güero and presence of concern do not go unnoticed by Faraday.

"A drink," the Irishman answers simply, a hopeful look on his face before he winces in pain, trying to curl up into a ball before Vasquez clamps his hands down on his wrists again.

"Stitches, remember?" Vasquez whispers calmly before responding to the request of the critically wounded man beside him. "What kind of drink, güero?" he sighs, running a hand through his own fluffy, dark brown hair to try not to make Faraday tense or move around too much and break the stitches open.

"Some whiskey sounds good right 'bout now," Faraday manages to say with a smile through the pain, and he shoots Vasquez a hopeful look and smile that Vasquez Alejandro de la Vega has come to associate with when Joshua Faraday either has a stupid plan or wants something done his way.

"No," Vasquez firmly says, earning a small pout from Joshua.

"Why?" he whines, doing his best to narrow his eyes at Vasquez in an attempt to get the outlaw to change his mind on the decision.

"The whiskey is only to stop the pain, the doctor said," Vasquez cautions, not wanting to be responsible for any further damage done to the young gambler under his watch.

"Vasquez, you stubborn mule, it _is_ for the pain!" Joshua growls through gritted teeth as his side pulses with pain as he tries to sit up and fails miserably, especially when Vasquez pushes him softly back down on the bed to keep the stitches from tearing.

Vasquez starts to compare watching after Faraday like watching a stubborn, sick child that doesn't want to stay in bed or take his or her medicine like the doctor said to.

"Give me strength," Vasquez mutters as he looks up at the sky. "Por favor," he whispers, grabbing the flask of whiskey off of the table in the room, a table which is fortunately just out of reach of Faraday's bed to keep the man from drinking the night away after Vasquez leaves. "Fine!" he acquiesces, not believing that this would truly help Faraday, but willing to give it a try just to shut the talkative, bantering man in front of him up. "You get _one_ sip, and I do mean one sip," Vasquez harshly says, jabbing the flask in Faraday's face only to see the Irishman grasp it like a life support before tipping it up to his lips and taking a long swig of the drink.

"I guess that's as good a compromise as any since you're bein' a stubborn caregiver," Faraday sasses with a smirk playing at his lips and a light returning to his eyes as he banters with Vasquez as has become their usual routine with one another.

"Perdóname? I'm being stubborn, güero? I'm the one who saved your stupid self as you lit up a dynamite stick that close to your own body!" Vasquez shouts, jumping up from the chair and nearly throwing something at Joshua just for that one comment, not caring at that moment in time if he hurt the stubborn jerk any further than he already is. "Ungrateful idiota," he scowls, his voice low and dangerous before he prepares to stalk out of the room, the flask confiscated and in his hands.

"Easy, Vas," Faraday calls softly, talking like one would do to an angry dog or an attacker of some sort. "I'm just sayin', you're my best friend and even you are bein' a stickler for the rules," Joshua jokes to try and lighten the situation before angling his head towards the chair and motioning for the vaquero to come back and sit down. "I appreciate ya saving my life more than you know, muchacho," Joshua Faraday honestly confides in his best friend, blue eyes sparkling and Vasquez takes that moment to sit back down on the chair next to Faraday, no longer mad at him for being so stubborn and stupid about someone caring about his health and overall well-being.

That's how Vasquez knows that Joshua is an only child, because if he had siblings he would notice the familiar bond the two of them seem to share and he would notice the concern and want for him to get better soon where he can remain alive and healthy in the future. But, Vasquez notes in his head, Joshua Faraday has earned six brothers whether he wants them or not.

"Hmm. I suppose two sips wouldn't hurt you any more than one would," Vasquez complies, handing him back the flask with a mischief and fondness expressed in his dark brown eyes that Vasquez hasn't used on anyone since what happened with Josué….

"I owe ya, Vas," Joshua speaks up, a smile on his face as he hands the flask back without an argument, reaching down towards his own chest to try and get out a deck of cards, only to realize he doesn't have a deck of cards on him since they took off his vest and shirt.

"For more than you know, hermano," Vasquez laughs, rubbing a hand through Faraday's hair like his own mother used to do when he and Josué were younger all those years ago. "For more than you know," he says again, clapping a gentle hand over Joshua's shoulder while keeping in mind where the slightly younger man's injuries are.

"There's another one o' them Mexican words again that I don't know!" Joshua shouts out, a fire in his light blue eyes as he realizes Vasquez uses his native tongue whenever the moment is getting the most serious and Faraday may actually want to know what the Mexican gunslinger is saying.

"Spanish, idiota," Vasquez counters, an annoyed tone present in his voice as he realizes for close to the millionth time that Joshua Faraday does not know that Spanish is a language and not Mexican.

"Same thing," Faraday argues his point, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk on his lips and a laugh escaping his throat.

"No, it's not. There's no such thing called a Mexican language except for Spanish," Vasquez comments, vowing then and there that he would teach the stubborn, joking gambler some Spanish while the Irishman was ordered to remain in the bed until his injuries heal up well enough for him to walk around.

Then at least he could make some conversation if the situation requires it.

"I hate hospitals."

It's a direct statement with no room for rebuttal, but Vasquez is confused by the sudden outburst.

"What?"

"I hate 'em, Vas," Faraday confides in the darker-haired man as he grimaces in pain while trying to kick off the blankets and thrash his limbs to get up from the bed. "They make me feel trapped," the blue-eyed gunslinger admits, once again feeling Vasquez' hands pushing him gently onto the bed to keep him from tearing the stiches and leaving his side beyond repair.

"Shhhh," Vasquez soothes, brushing some of Joshua's sweat-soaked hair- he's contracting a fever due to losing blood so quickly in the heat and now being exposed to lower temperatures- out of the gambler's face to try and calm him down. "Hermano, por favor, you must not thrash that way. Entiendes?" he quietly instructs, wiping a damp cloth across Faraday's forehead as his older brother instincts are kick-started.

"I guess," Faraday quietly agrees, lying still while looking around for a deck of cards anywhere.

"Do you want a deck of cards?" Vasquez offers, knowing just what the Irishman seems to want at this moment in time.

"Yeah," Joshua grins, happy to see his best friend is looking out for him while he is confined to the infirmary.

"I got you one," Vasquez smiles back, pulling out a new deck from his vest before handing it over to Joshua, and Faraday's blue eyes light up at the prospect of perfecting his magic and running the cards through his hands to keep his mind busy and off of the pain.

"You didn't have to do that, Vas," Faraday simply says, appreciating the sentiment but not thinking of it as being a necessary course of action.

"Sure I did, my friend. You blew up your other deck of cards in the explosion and you cannot be a gambler without cards to play with, no?" Vasquez insists, motioning for Faraday to go through the cards and maybe they can play a game of poker or something like that while dinner is still making.

"You're right about that," Joshua smiles, shuffling the cards through his calloused hands with years' worth of practice and skill. "Now, how about we play a game of poker?"

"You're on, güero," Vasquez smirks, pulling the chair closer to the bed before pulling out a cigar and putting it between his lips and then lighting it.

"Just try not to be a sore loser when I beat ya and take all your money, muchacho."

"Oh, you're just bluffing, idiota. We'll see how well you can play poker when I'm through winning."

And so begins the game of poker, the first one between Vasquez and Joshua as they remain in the infirmary room.

About ten minutes later, Faraday brings up a question that's been bothering him for a few hours now.

"Can't an injured man get any food in this solitary ward?" he jokes, and Vasquez throws the Joker at him from the discarded card pile, making Faraday reach up and catch the card in his hand as dutifully as he would when pulling either Ethel or Maria out of his gun holster.

Sam comes into the room as Vasquez laughs at Faraday's statement, carrying a tray of food with potatoes, eggs, bacon, beans, and a bit of steak on the plate for his injured friend.

"Well, it's good to see you finally awake, Joshua Faraday," Sam grins, sitting gently on the foot of the bed while passing Faraday the tray of food carefully where he doesn't spill any of it on the wounded gambler.

"Hey, Sam," Faraday greets, smiling a little as he looks down at the array of food. "Glad to be back and see that someone in this town cares enough to feed me," he jokes, earning him a glare from Vasquez.

"The kitchen has been backed up trying to get meals to the less wounded men who were actually awake, güero," Vasquez tells him in a slightly annoyed voice as the outlaw stands up to grab another tray from Red Harvest which Vasquez assumes is for him since Red Harvest would never eat the food that he insisted was only fit for dogs to eat.

"Stupid man," Red Harvest speaks up from the door, glaring at Joshua in such a way that chill runs up Faraday's spine just seeing the look.

He decides then and there that he never wants to get on Red Harvest's bad side, because if looks could kill he would very well be dead where he is lying in the bed.

"He just woke up from nearly getting blown up. Let's just show him some sympathy," Sam smiles before clapping Red Harvest on the shoulder gently to try and dissolve all ill will they may have in the room at the moment.

"Still stupid. Almost died without backup. Stupid plan," Red Harvest insists, crossing his arms over his chest before checking on his handiwork of bandaging Faraday's side and chest after he stitched the older man's side closed.

"Thanks for stichin' me up, Red. I appreciate it," Faraday grins his charming smile, though at that moment an intense wave of pain washes through him and he winces slightly before coughing softly after the bout of pain is over.

"Would you like a glass of water?" Sam asks, looking over at the counter where the doctor has set a pitcher of water along with a couple of glasses in which to pour the refreshing liquid into.

"Yeah, actually, I would," Faraday comments with a slight glare at Vasquez as the outlaw takes a swig from the flask of whiskey that Faraday still wants some more of.

Sam grabs the pitcher of water off the table and pours Faraday a glass of water before handing it to the man who has four new battle scars adorning his body from destroying the Gatling gun.

"Here ya are," Sam smiles, carefully handing the gambler the glass where he does not drop it or spill water on the sheets, bandages, or his own bare chest since they took his shirt and vest off in order to bandage his chest and stitch his side up. "You doin' all right other than the pain?"

"Fine. Vasquez here is tryin' to keep my mind off the pain by playin' cards with me," Faraday grins before sipping from the glass of water, handing it back to Sam, and then shoveling a few mouthfuls of beans into his mouth before eating a piece of bacon.

"What are we playing, Faraday?" Sam asks, moving a little on the bed to give Joshua a bit more space to stretch his legs out and not get a cramp in the leg that had been shot by one of Eyepatch Man's buddies.

"Poker. Vasquez is gettin' killed so far," Faraday barks a laugh, and Vasquez throws a pillow at the man, not caring that he's injured and considered "fragile" by the doctor.

"Bad choice of words, güero," he growls before continuing his sentence. "And we've only played one game; I've only lost about ten coins so far," Vasquez counters, watching as Faraday deals four sets of cards, including Red Harvest in their game.

"That's not all the money you'll lose when I'm through whippin' you boys at poker!" Faraday gloats, looking at his cards with his famous poker face, but he knows he has a very high chance at winning this hand if the rest of the turn goes in his favor.

Vasquez cannot respond, because at that moment Goodnight's and Billy's voices can be heard from the room down the hall as they argue with someone else.

"Mr. Rocks, you need to get back in the bed. Your wounds need to rest or they'll be reopened, and you need rest, too," Doc Charles instructs, and Sam can just picture the look that must be on Billy's face at being given a command he does not agree with.

"Perhaps you should be more worried about your more critically injured patients," Billy sasses the doctor, walking around the room as he grabs Goodnight's hip flask and then proceeds to drink the remaining brandy from the inside of the flask.

"Hey, Billy, gimme some of that!" Goodnight asks, holding out his hands as he waits for Billy to throw the flask over.

"You don't need any of that, Mr. Robicheaux. What you do need is to take your medicine and go to sleep now that you've eaten dinner where you can get some rest," Doc Charles instructs the Confederate sharpshooter, and Sam laughs from inside Faraday's infirmary room, knowing that his Cajun best friend would not take lightly to the idea of needing sleep over a night of cards or talking until the sun comes up again like they had done twenty years ago when they were coming home from the war and staying at Sam's house with his mother and sisters.

"I don't need anything, sir, except for to breathe, eat, and talk with my good friend Billy Rocks until either he falls asleep or throws a pillow at me and makes me go to sleep because he's being boring," Goodnight explains to the doctor, resulting in a chuckle from Billy as the assassin climbs back into his own bed across the room from Goodnight's bed.

"Sam, I think you need to go an' bust that up before Goodnight and Billy hurt the poor doctor," Faraday laughs, a yawn overtaking his voice as he finishes the last few words.

"I better. Night, Faraday. Vasquez, the doc will probably come in here and change Faraday's bandages soon, and then you need to get some shut-eye too, vaquero," Sam smiles, knowing that Vasquez had fallen asleep at irregular intervals during their time waiting for any word from the doctor.

"Sí. Estoy muy cansado," Vasquez agrees with a yawn as he closes his dark brown eyes in addition.

"Well, I'll see y'all in the morning. Red Harvest, are ya comin'?" Sam responds, starting to walk out the door and then casting his head over his shoulder to look at the young Comanche.

"Coming. Goodnight," Red Harvest smiles, walking out of the room behind the duly sworn warrant officer.

Faraday can't help but laugh at that before closing his eyes and attempting to fall asleep before the doctor comes in to change his bandages for the night.

Doc Charles comes into the room with a rather displeased look on his face after his argument with Billy and Goodnight. Billy Rocks had tried to tell the doctor of Rose Creek how to do his job, a conversation which amused Goodnight to no end as he sat in bed watching them talk back and forth in not so hushed voices.

"I'm finally here. You know, your friends are not the friendliest people towards doctors," Doc Charles admits, unsnapping his bag and pulling out fresh bandages from the bag.

"Yes, they're not the best accustomed to getting help," Vasquez chuckles softly, not wanting to wake Joshua as this is the quietest Vasquez has ever seen the Irishman and wants to keep it that way where the wounded, impulsive gambler can get some rest after nearly being blown up today by the Gatling gun and by Eyepatch Man's gang of thugs.

Doc Charles simply nods before re-wrapping the wounds on Faraday's side, chest, and knee, all while the blue-eyed man remains asleep on the bed, looking the calmest Vasquez has ever seen him, even with a bit of a fever still plaguing him along with the extensive pain.

"I'll be back in two hours to change his bandages where they don't infect the wound," the doctor explains quietly to Vasquez, snapping the doctor bag back up before moving to leave the room. "Oh, and if he wakes up in pain, you can give him a drink or two of brandy to help him go back to sleep. It shouldn't hurt him to just have a few drops on his tongue."

"Entiendo. I'll keep an eye on him," Vasquez promises, sighing and then leaning back in the chair, almost preparing to get up and head back to his hotel room he had been sharing with Faraday earlier in the week.

With that, the doctor walks away and Vasquez prepares to walk out of the room to go and get some sleep of his own since Faraday is calmly sleeping and does not seem to be in any particularly excruciating pain currently.

"Did I hear somebody say something about brandy?" Faraday whispers, a smile on his face as his light blue eyes open and shine in the moonlight from the window that is open near his bed.

"Thought you were asleep, güero."

"I was. The doc woke me up bandagin' my side back up."

"Do you need anything before I let you go back to sleep and I go back to the hotel?" Vasquez asks softly as he moves to close the window upon hearing the wind pick up and rain starting to hit against the ground outside, clearing away all the blood and fire from earlier.

"A drink would be nice," he grins again, and Vasquez can't help but pass him the flask.

Joshua drinks from the flask before passing it back to Vasquez and allowing the outlaw to do the same.

"Take care of Jack, Vas," Joshua instructs, curling his arms around the pillow and preparing to fall into a deep sleep since the day has taken a lot out of him both mentally and physically, though mostly physically.

"We are, Faraday. He's in the room next to you, getting his wounds treated just like you are," the Mexican gunslinger assures, not wanting Joshua to think they left a man behind.

"No, not Horne. Horne'll be fine; it's my stallion I'm worried about," Joshua laughs, and Vasquez presses the spare pillow over his face as a joke before removing it.

"I'll take care of your horse, güero. Now, shut up and go to sleep where I can get some, too," Vasquez sighs, standing up before feeling a slight tug on his hand.

"Stay in here, hermano. I may need someone to get me some more drink later on in the night," Faraday softly speaks up, and Vasquez is thoroughly surprised by his word choice.

Surely, he didn't know what the word meant. If he did, Vasquez would have made his proclamations of brotherhood louder and more obvious. No, Faraday must just think that it is a teasing word between the two of them like güero is. He shouldn't expect any more from the semi-conscious man.

"I won't leave you, mi hermano. Now, do me a favor and get some sleep," Vasquez remarks, listening to the rain coming down outside and nearly falling asleep to the rhythm of the rain hitting the windowpanes.

" 'Kay. Night, Vasquez," Faraday yawns, not letting go of the older man's hand, not realizing he still has a hold on it.

"Buenas noches, güero," Vasquez whispers before falling asleep himself.

With that, the two new best friends and proclaimed brothers fall asleep in the infirmary, neither one thinking about how today almost cost four of the Magnificent Seven their lives.

Meanwhile, Billy is trying to convince Goodnight that he needs to go to sleep, but Goodnight is not hearing any of it and is insisting that Billy is the more injured of the two of them.

"You were hit by ten bullets," Goodnight remarks nonchalantly, peering over the side of his bed at Billy who is propped up on a pillow on the room's other bed.

"You were hit by eight and fell off a roof to the ground," Billy counters, not a hint of humor in his voice.

"You were shot closer to your chest," Goodnight tries again, a smirk on his face as his blue eyes twinkle in mischief in the night.

"You broke your leg," Billy points out, gesturing to the cast as if to further prove his point.

"You like to tell the doctor how to do his job better," Goodnight laughs, though he does his best to make that statement sound as incriminating as possible.

"You're a stubborn patient who refuses to take his medicine or go to sleep."

"Touché."

With that, Billy throws a pillow at Goodnight, nearly toppling the Cajun backwards off the bed, and he has to grip the side of the blanket to keep from falling off onto his bad leg.

"Are you trying to kill me, Billy?" Goodnight asks in as serious a tone of voice as he can muster while preparing to throw the pillow back at Billy.

If only he could see better in the dark, especially with Billy's dark hair blending into the shadows of the night….

"Go to sleep, Goody," Billy commands, just wanting to rest and not wanting to keep hearing Goodnight Robicheaux mumble about who knows what any later in the night than is necessary.

"All right. But, you're in for an earful in the morning, Billy Rocks."

"When aren't I?" Billy mumbles under his breath.

"Hey! I heard that, Billy!"

"So you do have ears under that hair, then."

The pillow hits Billy square in the nose and he has to fight all his instincts not to throw his knife into Goody's bed to teach the older man a lesson. But, as long as the Magnificent Seven had one another, they could heal any damage and conquer any foe as sure as the sun shines during the hot, Western days the men have become accustomed to. And as the storm raged on outside, the rain cleaned away the blood from the fields and town, washing it of all its old injuries and strife, allowing for a new seed of hope and recovery to begin blossoming in Rose Creek and within the Magnificent Seven's family.

 **Author's Note: And there's Chapter Two! I hope everyone enjoyed; I tried my best to make this chapter as long as the first one, and I think this one may even be a bit longer. I blame the Seven for making me write; I promise you that they write themselves half the time, because I'll start in one direction and will almost be done and then write three thousand more words. Special thank you's go out to** ** _DjDangerLove, Renegade Hero, That Faraday Tho, darth picard, and timeanew_** **for their amazing reviews. I hope to hear more from you; I appreciate the kind words you left me! I hope everyone of you who favorited and followed also enjoyed this chapter as well; I thank each and every one of you reading this story for your support. Well, that's all I have to say for this Author's Note- I'm about to go watch TV with my family- so all that's left to say is thanks for your support and I hope you have a good day, afternoon, or night! Have a good week, my dear readers, and until next time!**


	4. Chapter Three: Not Your Ordinary Family

**Chapter Three: Not Your Ordinary Family**

 **Disclaimer: I still only own the OCs because it is safe to say we established that if I actually owned these characters they would all live and we would get this FanFiction as a sequel to the movie. (And I'd probably also do some origin stories for the Magnificent Seven and Emma as well…) But, as we are aware, I do not own any of the magnificent canon characters (See what I did there?) as they all belong to Columbia Pictures. If some games are mentioned in this chapter or further chapters that had not been invented yet, well, call that my creative license. (I couldn't find many games people could play in the 1800s, so I had to improvise a bit with games my family plays or games I learned about on the internet.) Well, with all of the formalities, let us get on with the story, and if there are any more notes, they will be at the end of the chapter! Oh, one last thing! I highly recommend you listen to the song quoted at least one time all the way through before reading the chapter. It sets the tone for the chapter, thus why it is included.**

 _"_ _We are, we are, not your ordinary family, but we can all agree that we are, we are… Close as close can be! Not too close! We are family. So, it don't matter what it looks like, we look perfect to me! We got every kind of love, I feel so lucky indeed. They can keep on talking; it don't matter to me. 'Cause we are, we are family. Family. We are, we are…. HAM AND CHEESE! No! It's we are family! Nah!" -Ice Age 4 Cast's song "We Are Family"_

The next morning, Vasquez wakes up to the scent of coffee drifting upstairs from the kitchen below. Standing up, being careful not to disturb the still-sleeping Faraday, the outlaw stretches out his muscles, cracking his back to relieve some of the pain caused from sleeping in a chair all night. Faraday remains sleeping in the infirmary bed, light snores escaping blue-eyed gambler's lips every now and then. Deciding that Joshua _should_ remain asleep long enough for him to go downstairs and get a cup of coffee, Vasquez softly walks out the door, stepping quietly enough where his boots don't echo on the floor. The vaquero had enough sense the night before to unclip his gun belt and place it on the nightstand next to Faraday's bed where he wouldn't forget he had it on. That would have been bad if Vasquez had left the gun loaded and it ended going off in the darkness of the night.

"I'll be right back, güero," Vasquez whispers once he passes the doorframe, careful not to wake the sleeping gambler in the process.

With that, Vasquez sticks his head in the two other doors on the second floor that hold his new friends and brothers in arms. Horne is still asleep, his chest rising and falling as he loudly snores while remaining in a deep sleep. Goodnight remains asleep as well, his foot still propped up on a pillow to cushion his broken limb as it heals. A rather large puddle of drool settles on Goodnight's pillow below his head, as the sharpshooter is famous for keeping his mouth open while he sleeps, a trait he inherited from his late mother. Billy, meanwhile, is sitting cross-legged in his own bed, sharpening one of his prized knives with the skills he has perfected over the years.

"Coffee?" Vasquez questions softly as he looks in at Billy as the assassin finishes sharpening his knife.

"Please," Billy quietly responds with a nod and small smile in the direction of the vaquero.

Vasquez grins back, and just his smile could rival the sunlight streaming in from the window; the outlaw is just that thrilled his new family is all alive and healing.

Without another word between them, Vasquez nods his head before starting to make his way downstairs, his gun belt jingling as he steps down towards the scent of coffee. Billy goes back to sharpening his knives, enjoying the peace and quiet presented since Goodnight is peacefully asleep for once. The assassin methodically sharpens his blade in a way only he knows, his mind drifting to several different subjects at once, never fully deciding on an exact train of thought. One of the first thoughts that comes to mind is how kind the rest of the Magnificent Seven is, and how they treat him like an equal instead of like trash. The rest of the world could be so cruel sometimes…

Billy starts to wonder how exactly he is still alive.

He had heard the gunshots fire from his and Goody's rifles as they tried to provide Joshua Faraday with some form of cover.

He had heard Goody shout out "I got him!" with the excitement and pride one might express when finally learning how to train a horse.

He had watched as bullets shattered Goodnight's final word and filled the Confederate soldier with holes.

He had seen Goodnight Robicheaux fall backwards off the steeple, hurtling towards the unforgiving ground.

He had whispered "Goody" with what he thought had been his last breath.

He experienced all of that.

 _Hadn't he?_

With his thoughts all scrambled, Billy decides to just focus on his knives.

At least he was certain how the weapons were in his hands and why he needed to keep them sharp.

Vasquez spots Emma from across the room, so he clears his throat to catch her attention where she isn't startled by his voice. The fiery redhead spins around, a small smile appearing on her face as she sees who is standing only a few footsteps behind her.

"Good morning, Mr. Vasquez," she greets, picking up a mug of coffee and closing the space between them.

"Por favor, no more calling me Mr. Vasquez, Señora Emma," Vasquez asks, accepting the mug of coffee as she passes it to him before motioning to one of the tables.

"Only if you agree on one thing," Emma challenges, pausing to take a sip of her mug of coffee as she sits down in a chair across from Vasquez.

"And what might that be, señora?" the gunslinger inquires, setting his coffee down on the table before itching one side of his face with his left hand.

"Don't feel the need to call me Señora Emma," Emma Cullen tells him, their eyes locking as they look at one another across the table. "Just Emma will suffice."

"Entiendo," Vasquez assures, one eyebrow arching as he catches the scent of something cooking. "Gracias. The coffee is some of the best I've had," he continues before realizing what is cooking. "Bacon and bread?" Vasquez inquires in such a way that if a person didn't know the vaquero, he or she may think he is making an observation.

"Yes. Billy tells me that Goodnight loves bread when he's cranky, which is sure to be today since he's going to be confined to bed for six or eight weeks per Doc Charles' orders," Emma answers simply, stirring a small bit of cream into her coffee to combat the bitterness. "Faraday insisted I make him more bacon because he promised he would be a more miserable and more demanding patient if he didn't get any," the female gunslinger rolls her eyes, just picturing the smirk Joshua Faraday had on his face when he said he would be miserable.

Vasquez can't help but laugh, knowing that is _exactly_ something the blue-eyed gambler would say.

Emma's question catches Vasquez off guard and he quickly swallows his sip of coffee where he doesn't spit it out.

"Do you want any special treat for breakfast, Vasquez? The bread is Goodnight's special treat, the bacon's Faraday's; I knew Mr. Chisolm- I mean Sam-" Emma starts to explain, remembering that the bounty hunter gave her permission to just call him Sam. "Sam would want coffee. Jack asked for some breakfast potatoes," she keeps explaining, only for Vasquez to interrupt with a joke.

"And by Jack, I hope you mean Horne, and not Faraday's horse," Vasquez grins widely, showing most of his teeth in the process. "If the horse starts talking to you, Emma, I would run," he heartily laughs, and the sound of his carefree, rumbling laughter carries through the infirmary.

Emma can't help but smile at the joke, even though she also rolls her eyes at the vaquero's humor out of reflex. She's used to the joke the people of Rose Creek make, and those are nowhere close to funny and are not as refreshing and sharp like Vasquez' jokes.

"Yes, I meant Jack Horne," Emma grins, moving to stand up from the table and head back to finish making breakfast for the Magnificent Seven who risked their lives to save Rose Creek. "Though I wouldn't put that past that crazy horse of Faraday's. You know, he almost bit Teddy's hand last night when Teddy tried to fill up his oats," the redhead smirks, knowing Teddy has never had very good reception from horses in the past.

"Caballo inteligente," Vasquez remarks under his breath, not quite sure how much Spanish Emma knows. "I will go make sure Jack eats," the vaquero assures, remembering his promise to Faraday last night that he would take care of the murderous stallion while Joshua Faraday is recovering from his injuries.

Vasquez takes another swig from his coffee, knowing that he would need to be wide awake and on his toes in order to make sure Jack didn't try to kill him.

Sam walks in, tipping his hat at Emma before sitting down at the table beside Vasquez.

"Mornin'," Sam greets, accepting a mug of coffee from Emma as she comes back to give Vasquez another mug of coffee to take upstairs to Billy, per the vaquero's sweet request.

"Buenos días, my friend," Vasquez returns, stretching his legs out too where they are resting on the chair across the table.

"Good morning, Mr. Chisolm," Emma says in a happy tone of voice, wiping her hands on a small rag to get the few drops of cream off her hands.

"Sam," the duly sworn warrant officer insists, looking at the young woman over the brim of his hat. "Just call me Sam, Miss Emma," Sam instructs, not wanting the formalities to exists between them during their entire stay in Rose Creek.

"Yes, sir," Emma complies, turning her attention back to Vasquez soon after. "You never answered my question, Vasquez. What do you want for breakfast?" she questions the vaquero, not noticing the other figure appearing behind her.

"Eh, some eggs if it's not too much trouble, Emma," Vasquez finally caves in to her question, not used to anyone going out of his or her way to make him happy.

He hadn't been catered to like this since he was a young boy in México with his Mamá.

"It's not any trouble. Has anybody seen—AH!" Emma shouts upon turning around, seeing Red Harvest standing two paces behind her. "Red Harvest, you scared me!" she admits, feeling her heart beating faster than usual.

"Why?" Red Harvest asks in a gentle tone, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and looking like a sleepy teenager. "You are scared of me?" he inquires with a poker face that could rival Joshua Faraday's, but Sam, Emma, and Vasquez pick up on his disappointment.

"No! Never!" Emma insists, her voice rising as she attempts to make her point. "You saved my life, Red Harvest; I'm forever thankful for that. You just startled me is all," the modern Joan of Arc, as Sam called her, insists, not wanting Red Harvest to feel as if she was terrified of him.

"Good. I am not a bad man," Red Harvest assures the three people around him with a small smile.

"We know, Red Harvest. You're a loyal friend," Vasquez grins, gently patting the young warrior's shoulder.

"What would you like for breakfast, Red Harvest?" Emma inquires, knowing Red Harvest is the hardest to please of the Seven.

 _"_ _Nothing if it's going to be white people's food. If you had berries or meat, maybe I would eat,"_ Red Harvest comments in Comanche, a disapproving look on his face.

"What did he say?" Emma turns to face Sam in confusion.

"He says he doesn't want anything. He's not hungry," Sam translates, earning him a scowl of disappointment from Red Harvest.

" _You know that is not what I said,"_ he simply remarks, crossing his arms over his chest.

" _No, but it's nicer than saying the food she makes is for dogs,"_ Sam responds to the statement in Comanche, and the bounty hunter and former Union soldier finds himself feeling thankful Emma does not speak Comanche.

Vasquez can't help but laugh at the conversation, even though he has no idea what is truly going on. The famous outlaw determines then and there that he would learn Comanche with Red Harvest's help. He knew what it was like to be a non-native English speaker and how easy it is to slip back into Spanish when he is overwhelmed.

By the time Emma comes back with a food tray for Billy, Red Harvest has disappeared again, snagging a buttered roll from Sam's plate before he leaves. If there's one food the people of Rose Creek make that Red Harvest loves to no end, it is bread of any kind. The young Comanche warrior gets excited whenever he spots any, and more often than not, he would take bread off of either Faraday's or Goodnight's plates to see if they would say anything. Hey, with the Battle of Rose Creek impending on the Magnificent Seven, it served as comic relief in that week to make Joshua Faraday and Goodnight Robicheaux think they were slowly going crazy.

"Gracias, Emma," Vasquez grins, accepting the food tray with two plates on it and smiling even wider upon finding a pile of eggs on his plate, sprinkled with pepper just like his Mamá used to make for him.

"No problem, Vasquez. Now, you better get Billy his coffee before he tracks you down with that knife collection of his," Emma jokes with a laugh and a genuine smile as she realizes how happy Vasquez is at receiving his favorite breakfast food.

"Sí. That would be muy mal for my well-being," Vasquez shudders, just thinking of how terrifying it would be to have Billy Rocks coming after him with knives.

That image would be enough to bring even the strongest and most confident person to his or her knees. Sam can't help but smirk, knowing just how terrifying Billy can be even when just sitting in the infirmary bed. When he has his knives, all bets are off on the lengths Billy would go to ensure his new family is safe and provided for. Vasquez climbs up the stairs to give Billy a cup of coffee where the assassin can get some caffeine in his system before Goodnight Robicheaux wakes up.

"Delivery for Billy Rocks," Vasquez jokes, sticking his head in the doorframe, thankful no one shut the door back since his hands are full with a food tray.

"Unless it's something good, take it back," Billy jokes in a monotone voice, but his slight smile conveys it is a joke.

"There's coffee," Vasquez jokes back in an equally monotone voice.

Billy's dark brown eyes light up, and he scoots backwards on the bed to where his back is resting against the headboard.

"Your offering pleases me," Billy deadpans, patting the bed gently to offer Vasquez a place to sit. "Sit," the Korean knife-wielder commands in as gentle a tone as he is capable of.

Vasquez complies and gently sits on the foot of the bed, not wanting to be responsible for further worsening Billy's wounds. The vaquero then passes the mug of coffee to his brother in arms and places the plate of food within reach of Billy.

"Emma made us a spread of breakfast," Vasquez says to try and break the silence between them, but the outlaw lowers his voice upon seeing Goodnight roll over in his sleep in the bed across the room. "The coffee es muy excelente," he compliments Emma's cooking before diving into the plate of eggs, barely remembering to use a fork due to his excitement.

Billy simply gives the vaquero a sidelong glance in amusement before he takes a swig of the coffee.

"It is excellent," Billy remarks, catching sight of Goodnight starting to briefly stir amidst his sleep.

"Told you," Vasquez smirks around a mouthful of breakfast potatoes.

Goodnight's body jerks once from its position in his bed, causing Billy to look over in alarm. The Cajun's body stops moving and a peaceful look smooths over his face once more. Vasquez sees Billy visibly relax before the Korean assassin picks up a piece of bread in his hands and begins to eat like there's no tomorrow.

They try to keep silent in an effort not to wake Goodnight, and neither Vasquez nor Billy minds it at first. It's a friendly silence, not an awkward one by any means, and Vasquez ends up trading Billy some of his breakfast potatoes to get another serving of the eggs that reminded him of his life back on the hacienda in México. Eventually, however, both men finish with their plates of food, and the silence seems almost deafening to both Billy and Vasquez, save for the occasional snore from Goodnight. Billy Rocks decides that it's as good a time as any to ask the question that has been on his mind all morning.

"How am I not dead?"

The question alone is un-nerving, but the complete desperation and confusion in Billy's voice is almost too much for Vasquez to bear.

"What?" Vasquez inquires in true confusion, not expecting that question from Billy.

He expected it from Goodnight or Faraday, yes, but never from Billy.

"I don't think I understand you, my friend," the Mexican outlaw admits, dark brown eyes widening in confusion at the sudden change in tone and conversation.

"Don't play dumb!" Billy growls under his breath, and Vasquez would be thoroughly terrified now if he didn't think of Billy like a brother at this point. "I know you are smart. I see you read when no one else is awake at night," he continues, softening his voice as his eyes close for a few seconds. "Just tell me how I am alive when I remember the world going black," Billy all but begs, that uncharacteristic desperation back in his voice.

"All right," Vasquez starts off, taking a breath before continuing. "Okay. You win," he admits, holding his hands up the way Sam did when presenting him with his own warrant before the Battle of Rose Creek. "Remember how much work I put into the church?" Vasquez inquires, mostly rhetorically, but Billy still nods along.

"Sure," Billy remarks in his famous monotone voice, not wanting to betray or hide any emotion, Vasquez is unsure which.

The vaquero swallows uneasily, not sure how he wants to word the situation.

"I, no, _we_ built up the foundation to be strong. I tell you nothing would get through to the steeple," Vasquez reminds the assassin of their plans and how they fortified the church before the seemingly suicidal Battle of Rose Creek. "There was wood placed along the outside to protect the schoolteacher at first. Then, you and Goodnight came and fought above me," the dark-haired gunslinger explains, wanting Billy to know the full story. "I prayed for us during the last parts of the battle, and mi Mamá y Dios were watching over us together. The wood, it bounced bullets off," Vasquez continues, swallowing thickly as he thinks of his mother, the woman who loved him when he lived in México, regardless of what he has done.

Oh, the terrible things he has done…..

"Which is why I'm not dead," Billy acknowledges, pausing to take a bite of breakfast potatoes. "Thank you, Vasquez. I'm thankful for your plan," he follows up, locking his eyes on Vasquez as the vaquero shifts on the foot of the bed to where his ankle does not continue protesting against him leaning all his weight on it.

Even though Vasquez did not injure his ankle, his body is still human and can only absorb so much force per square inch before feeling slightly numb.

"What are brothers for, my friend?" Vasquez smiles gently, settling for swinging his legs to where they're hanging off the bed.

"I am your brother?" Billy questions in such an innocent and adorable way that Vasquez knows that Billy, like Faraday, is not used to having others care about him.

"Sí."

"Good. You are my brother, too."

They smile at one another- Billy _actually_ smiles- and then continue to keep eating, Billy looking unnecessarily protective and possessive over his food.

A deep, Southern voice suddenly speaks up from the other side of the room, causing Vasquez to look over his shoulder to face the speaker.

"I see how it is. I'm asleep and Billy thinks he can run his mouth a mile a minute. I'm awake and Billy thinks he doesn't need to respond with words," Goodnight drowsily quips, his voice rougher than his normal tone due to being thick with recent sleep. (And, most likely, drool that had built up in his mouth as he slept.) "Traitor," he jokes, and Billy moves to grab one of his knives, an action which would terrify most people.

But not Goodnight Robicheaux.

The excitable, loud-mouth Cajun grins at Billy, and the assassin can't help but sigh.

"You needed rest last night," Billy remarks in his straightforward, no-nonsense tone of voice. "And I was trying to sleep," he adds in as an explanation for why he had thrown a pillow at Goodnight last night and told him a knife would be next if Goody didn't let him sleep.

Goodnight had gone to sleep directly after that, only too aware that Billy is not one to make anything but a serious threat.

"Then why can Vasquez talk? He's injured, too," Goodnight sasses, and if he had been standing up, Billy can imagine that the sharpshooter would have put his hands on his hips in that typical Goodnight Robicheaux defiance angle that he uses around strangers.

Goodnight had done a version of such typical hands-on-hip pose when they first came to Rose Creek and he put a hand on his pistol and the rifle to try and intimidate the deputies.

"I may be injured, but at least I don't talk a person's ear off like you do, amigo," Vasquez jokes, and Goodnight feigns being insulted by throwing a hand to his chest in mock insult.

"My, my. That was hurtful, son," Goodnight gasps, and he has the nerve to click his tongue against the side of his cheek too while looking as smug as ever. "Well, while you're here, Vasquez, ya mind passin' me one of my books that Sam brought in? I feel like doing some reading when I finish breakfast," the sharpshooter questions in a more serious tone, not continuing the fake insult and wounded pride at being told he talks too much.

Billy has told him so in numerous instances, in fact, over ten times in the few hours they have been in Rose Creek's infirmary.

"Sure, Goodnight," Vasquez smiles, getting one of the books from the dresser across the room, noticing the faded ribbon serving as a bookmark, and the smile tugs at the corner of the Mexican's face as he realizes the handiwork of a dedicated mother when he sees it.

"Merci monsieur," Goodnight says in French, and Vasquez has picked up just enough from the Cajun sharpshooter that he at least knows that the sentence means thank you.

"No problema. Can I get you anything-" Vasquez starts off, only to hear his name being hollered from down the hallway, causing the vaquero to sigh in frustration and run both his hands over his face at the other person's impatience and seemingly worried tone.

"VASQUEZ!" comes a yell from Joshua Faraday himself as he lies in his bed in the room across the hall, not having enough strength or coordination to get out of the infirmary bed where he is injured.

Vasquez doesn't answer, putting his right index finger over his lips as a silent beg to Billy and Goodnight not to give away his position. Goodnight, the overgrown child he is, replies by making a zipping motion over his own lips and then pretending to throw the key to Billy, and both Billy and Vasquez have to restrain themselves from facepalming right then and there.

"Vas, I know you hear me!" Joshua yells from his room, wondering where exactly the vaquero could be that he hasn't gotten annoyed or become aware of his shouting from the other room.

The Mexican gunslinger still does not answer, instead he opts for resting against the dresser in Goodnight and Billy's infirmary room while both the injured men smirk from their respective beds. It's much too early for all of this yelling; the sun is barely even rising in the sky, and already Faraday is getting on his nerves. Already. Sam would owe him for this, too.

"VAS! VAS, I'M HUNGRY AND NO ONE HAS BROUGHT ME FOOD!" Faraday continues yelling, honestly debating in his head if he could stand up if he really wanted to and walk down the stairs to head for the smell of breakfast and coffee.

Nah, he decides.

He couldn't get out of bed right now by himself even if he _really_ does want that heavenly bacon that he can smell from upstairs.

But, if he could…. Joshua Faraday would be downstairs in an instant, snapping up all that bacon onto his plate faster than a bear catching fish in the river.

What? The man loves him some home-cooked breakfast, especially if said breakfast contains some nice, crunchy bacon.

It's easily his favorite breakfast food.

"YA VOY, GÜERO!" Vasquez shouts back in an equally forceful and loud voice, and he honestly starts to hope that Jack Horne is already awake.

If the mountain man had been asleep and was awoken by the outlaw and the gambler's arguing, then it was sure to be a nightmare for both of the younger gunslingers if the bear in people's clothes ever got ahold of them.

"I HOPE THAT MEANS YOU'RE COMIN', VASQUEZ!"

Vasquez just stalks off across the hallway, receiving a hearty chuckle from Goodnight and an eye roll from Emma as the fiery redhead comes into the room Billy and Goodnight are recovering in with a tray of food for Goodnight.

"Merci, mon cher," Goodnight smiles, and Emma can't help but smile back, knowing that Goodnight uses the French word for dear more so as a term of endearment for her as a sister of sorts.

Goodnight hasn't been around a young woman so close in age to his and Sam's sisters in so long, and he wasn't going to ruin his relationship with the first one he has had the pleasure of meeting. The only difference between Sam and Goodnight's sisters' fates is that both of Sam's sisters died tragically because of Bogue while Goodnight's younger sister- who would also be around Emma's age- had been sent up north during the Civil War to a school where she could finish up school as a well-respected lady as Goodnight's own mother had been raised. Adalicia Robicheaux is about three years older than Emma, and she is about eight years younger than Goodnight, making her a young woman of around thirty-one almost thirty-two years of age. After the war was over, Adalicia had married a Union general- one that Sam actually fought side by side with and deemed a good man when the concerned twenty-seven old Goodnight had questioned Sam mercilessly about. Goodnight would never be embarrassed by his questioning of his sister's fiancé before she married him; he is very protective over his only sibling and Goodnight would easily go to the ends of the Earth for her. The last he had heard about Adalicia was that she had welcomed her and Jacob Anderson's first child, a baby boy that they named William after Goodnight and Adalicia's grandfather that died at the Alamo, probably by Vasquez' grandfather's hands. Now, while the Confederate soldier isn't one hundred percent sure if Vasquez' grandfather had ever killed William Robicheaux, he is sure that seven years ago a baby boy with bright blue eyes and light brown hair not unlike Goodnight's own had been was born in Maine. Looking at Emma's smile and her easy disposition around men that had most townspeople - prejudiced scum that were put on edge by people such as Vasquez, Red Harvest, Billy, and Sam- scurrying away or reaching for their guns reminds Goodnight of how his sister had been when she still lived with and wrote letters to Goodnight. Emma simply nods at Goodnight before taking Billy's empty tray of food and coffee mug and beginning to carry it down the stairs where she can get a tray of food for Faraday since she heard the gambler yelling at Vasquez that no one brought him food yet. Then again, the blue-eyed gambler had threatened to be a miserable patient if he didn't get any bacon, so his complaints were to be expected.

Vasquez enters Joshua's room, his gun-belt and spurs of boots jingling as he stops in the doorway, a sigh escaping his lips as he looks at how innocent Joshua looks, propped up on a pillow against the headboard.

"What's that mad face for, muchacho?" Faraday grins, and Vasquez has to resist the urge to smack the facial expression off the younger man's face. "Hope your face don't freeze like that. It wouldn't be an attractive thing for the ladies to look at like that," the gambler teases, drawing attention to the deep frown and annoyed look that Vasquez has on his face that challenges the güero's calm and joking behavior.

"You are starting to annoy, güero," Vasquez simply remarks, stepping into the room and crossing his way over the floor until he reaches the bed where Faraday is resting his injuries.

"Why, Vas, I _never_ annoy anyone," Faraday feigns insult much like Goodnight had done earlier when the vaquero was in his room.

"Wherever did you learn how to lie so terribly?" Vasquez laughs his carefree laughter, a smirk on his face as he sits down in the chair next to Faraday's bed before picking up the spare pillow that Faraday must have knocked off the bed during his sleep or thrashing around trying to sit up on his own. "You annoy more people than you know how to count," the outlaw teases, leaning back in the chair and looking outside to see the sunlight streaming in through the window behind Faraday's head.

Instead of answering Vasquez' jest, Faraday diverts the attention to a new matter entirely, as has been his way of survival all these years on his own when someone begins to suspect something is up or they try to call him out.

"Where, may I ask, is my coffee?" Joshua inquires, eyes shining bright as he takes in a long inhale to the scent of coffee from directly across the hall where Vasquez and Billy had coffee not more than twenty minutes ago. "I like to start my day with a cup of coffee," the gambler announces in that overly cocky and slightly annoying tone of voice he uses when he is trying to get on someone's nerves the fastest way he knows how.

"Of course you do," Vasquez mumbles under his breath, realizing that Faraday can never make anything simple for once.

At that moment, Emma comes into Faraday's room with a tray of breakfast food with enough bacon to feed a small army and a cup of coffee on the tray as well.

 _"_ _Bless her," Vasquez thinks to himself, as he realizes that he will not have to walk downstairs for a second time just to get the loud-mouth man that is Joshua Faraday a cup of coffee._

"Here ya are, Faraday," Emma says as she sits the tray down on the bed before she starts to head for the door, only to be stopped by two voices overlapping at once.

"Thanks, Emma! At least someone won't let me starve," Joshua remarks in a kind and also mocking tone of voice as he looks pointedly at Vasquez, not realizing that he said nearly the same words to Sam the night before when Sam and Red Harvest brought the gambler and outlaw dinner upstairs the night before.

"Emma, I can offer any help you or the others may need. I grew up on an hacienda, so if there are any crops needing to be planted, I can…" Vasquez starts off, choosing to ignore Faraday's statement.

Mostly.

The vaquero rolls his dark brown eyes in annoyance while waiting on an answer from Emma, not wanting to hear Faraday's bad jokes and complaints that are sure to be innumerable while the restless cowboy is healing enough to where he can be up on his feet once more.

"That would be a great help, Vasquez. We can start as soon as Faraday finishes eating. Someone should watch over him in case he needs anything," Emma thanks, grabbing the water pitcher from the dresser on her way out to fill it back up for Faraday before she and Vasquez go out into the fields to replant the crops that had been trampled by horses or burned during the Battle of Rose Creek.

"Sounds good. I'll be outside in about… how fast do you eat, güero?" Vasquez gets distracted, realizing that he has never really seen or chosen to remember how fast any of the Magnificent Seven eat on a regular basis.

No, Vasquez takes that back. It takes Red Harvest less than thirty seconds, because he takes thirty seconds to deny whatever food is being offered to him, with the exception of the bread he has taken from others' plates. The others, well, they all ate in the hotel's dining room, and most of that time had been filled with joking, drinking, and swapping stories to prevent having to think of the horrible consequences the Battle of Rose Creek could have had. Those first nights in Rose Creek dinner seemed to last for hours, especially the one on the night when Goodnight decided to leave before he decided to heroically ride into town, his war cry splitting the air with such a force that anyone in his or her right mind would be thoroughly terrified.

"If I'm hungry like I am now, this whole plate will be gone in five minutes," Faraday replies around a mouthful of bread as he moves to pick up a few breakfast potatoes with his fork in his right hand.

"Then I'll meet you outside in fifteen minutes, Emma," Vasquez finally decides, and Emma nods before slipping out of the room to check on Jack, Billy, and Goodnight.

Faraday keeps eating, barely taking his eyes off the plate as he bites into his fourth piece of bacon, not bothering to even make conversation with Vasquez when bacon is involved.

"You're welcome," Vasquez says once Emma is out of earshot of the room and he cannot stand hearing just his and Faraday's breathing in addition to the crunch of the bacon as Joshua bites into it.

"For what?" Faraday inquires, swallowing a drink of coffee before he looks up at Vasquez, his eyes locking on to those of the slightly older man.

"Saving your life," Vasquez deadpans, thinking back to yesterday and how Joshua Faraday nearly blew himself up trying to take out the Gatling gun on the hill.

"You did do that, didn't ya?" Joshua questions in blurred confusion, not really remembering much of last night after he woke up in the hospital, which is a better alternative to blowing himself up any day of the week.

"Sí. Do you remember any of last night?" Vasquez asks gently, just wanting to know how much he needs to fill the gambler in on the details.

" I 'member I got stitches," Josh slurs from either sleep or pain, it is not apparent which as the lighter-haired cowboy yawns and winces in pain at the exact same time. "That really hurt," he whines gently, letting his head fall back against the pillow as a thin line of sweat gleams on his forehead from the receding fever.

One of the nurses who came to change Faraday's bandages during the night last night had told Vasquez that the fever should leave by later today. If it didn't, then Faraday would need immediate medical attention to see if he has an infection or if he has another medical problem, such as another bullet that someone might have missed. Although, the famous vaquero does not seriously believe it could be the latter since Red Harvest was the one who had stitched Joshua back together again, and the young Comanche warrior would not miss such a crucial detail. Vasquez is sure that it is just the shock at almost getting blown up coupled with the blood loss that is causing Faraday's fever, nothing more, nothing less.

"Bueno. Last night you kept trying to pull them open, güero," Vasquez softly says, pulling the spare pillow behind Faraday's head where the gambler can have a bit of elevation and hopefully a bit more comfort where he does not roll over and try and rip open his injured side. "Last night you were so jumpy and almost broke them open muchos tiempos," he honestly tells his best friend, remembering how many times during that night that he had to press his hands against Joshua's wrists just to keep the Irishman from causing even worse permanent damage to his right side.

He's just glad that _finally_ exhaustion had claimed Joshua Faraday last night and that the usually drunk Irishman had fallen asleep with a bit of aid from whiskey and brandy as pain relievers.

Faraday smiles a little at the memory of last night, not feeling too proud that he had given Vasquez such a hard time, but proud he had been strong enough to put up a fight and thankful that Vasquez de la Vega had remained by his side to make sure that he didn't injure himself further.

"Gracias for your help, Vas," Faraday grins, knowing at least that much Spanish. "I appreciate your loyalty towards me and how ya saved my life. How did you, by the way?" Joshua thanks with a twinkle in his eyes as he realizes that without his best friend's help that he would be a dead man like all the townspeople and Bogue's men that still needed to be buried.

"You don't remember a thing, do you?" Vasquez says aloud, though he mostly means for himself to hear the words out loud just to know he is talking to the man in front of him. "You used a stick of dynamite to blow up the Gatling gun, güero. I rode after you when I heard your stupid plan-"

"It wasn't stupid, Vas."

"Sí, it was. Now, cállate, por favor, and I tell you how it happened," Vasquez instructs, ready to remind the gambler how his life was saved yesterday. "I rode up behind you with Goodnight and Billy offering us cover from the steeple- they're in the room across the hall if you forgot that," the Mexican gunslinger starts off once more before being cut off by Faraday once again.

"I remember that much. And Horne has the room next to mine," he says to tell Vasquez how much he actually does remember.

"Selective memory, eh, güero?" Vasquez quips, and Faraday lightly smacks him on the arm, working to preserve his strength. "Well, I came up on a horse and pulled you on the saddle in front of me, but you still had that dynamite in your hand like an idiota. Finally you threw it before it blew up, but we had to ride the shock and you passed out after I told you I was going to bring you to the medico," Vasquez finishes the tale for Faraday, wanting to let it all sink in for the gambler.

"Dang. I didn't realize how much I was leavin' to chance, there. I thought I died, Vas," Faraday admits, looking every bit like his pale eyes may widen with tears at any second. "I thought I died. I thought I was a goner, and I'd never even get to tell you guys what a pleasure it was to meet all of ya and have people who cared about me," Josh breaks down, a few tears in his green-blue eyes, but they do not spill just yet. "Thought I'd never get to tell Jack goodbye and thank him for bein' such a loyal friend and horse over the years. Thought I'd never learn what in the heck that güero word means," he continues, only to be interrupted by Vasquez.

"You'll never find out what güero means from me, hermano," Vasquez chuckles in that deep, warm way of his that can instantly lighten any mood. "But, I understand your pain."

"You do?"

"Mm-hmm. I haven't had someone to care about me since I lived in México with mi Mamá, and now I found the six of you to be brothers and Emma is like a sister to all of us. I couldn't bear thinking that we wouldn't be able to say goodbye."

Joshua swallows and looks up at Vasquez to see that the vaquero is smiling slightly like one would to a younger sibling or another family member, and Joshua Faraday can only remember his mother and grandmother ever looking at him like that. Maybe it's something all families do, and maybe he's found that new family here with Vasquez, Sam, Horne, Red Harvest, Billy, Goodnight, Emma, and of course Jack the stallion would never leave him. As far as families go, he's glad he was adopted into this one, no matter how strange their family may appear to outsiders or prejudiced people in other towns who don't like Native Americans, or Koreans, or Mexicans. But to Faraday and the rest of the Magnificent Seven, they would not trade any one member of their team and family for anyone else in the world. And if anyone had anything to say about their family, well, let's just say they would be greeted with no less than seven guns, a bow and arrows, a tomahawk or two, a hatchet, an axe, and plenty of freshly sharpened knives. The only people that get to make fun of or threaten anyone in the Magnificent Seven are the Magnificent Seven themselves. Particularly in the cases of Vasquez and Faraday as well as Goodnight and Billy who acted like actual brothers instead of just honorary and sort of adopted brothers.

They sit there for a little bit, Joshua shuffling his new deck of cards Vasquez got him between his hands, and Vasquez focuses his attention on straightening up the nightstand near Faraday's bed where maybe Emma would have enough room to sit the water pitcher and a cup where Faraday can pour himself a glass of water while the others are outside fixing the town, planting more crops, and burying the dead that perished during the fight against Bart Bogue, the robber baron. And, then, like usual, Joshua Faraday has to break the silence as he gets bored not hearing any noise other than the shuffling of his card deck.

"Hey, Vas," Faraday starts off the conversation, catching Vasquez' attention with the start of no doubt another request before the vaquero goes to help Emma.

"¿Sí, güero?" Vasquez inquires, finishes rearranging the nightstand's contents and finding himself wondering what the gambler has on his mind.

"This is gonna be mighty awkward, but…" Joshua Faraday trails off, his emerald/blue eyes darting around the room.

Silence.

Vasquez isn't sure how to respond to that.

More silence.

What exactly could he need that would be awkward?

Even more silence.

The waiting is more awkward than the request, Vasquez thinks.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Faraday announces sheepishly, breathing in deeply as Vasquez looks at him in confusion.

"Okay," Vasquez deadpans, not seeing how that is awkward.

The vaquero isn't stupid; he's aware that going to the bathroom is just as much a part of nature as eating and breathing.

"Okay?" Faraday demands in a confused louder tone than his previous statement. "That's all you have to say, Vasquez?" he questions, shifting slightly in the bed, taking care not to tear his stitches in the process.

"You know where the outhouse is güero," Vasquez reminds, fishing for a cigar in his vest pocket in the process.

"In case you've forgotten, Vas, I can't walk," Faraday brings up with just a little more spite and anger than he had intended while reminding the vaquero of his shot kneecap.

"Sí, I remember. Which would mean-"Vasquez trails off before realization dawns on all his facial features. "Oh!" he exclaims, mentally kicking himself for not realizing Faraday could not walk sooner.

"Yeah, oh!" Joshua all but shouts, trying his best to push himself up where he could try to get up and go to the outhouse.

However, the gambler pretty much falls ungracefully back onto his back, his arms giving out due to the strain of the bandages where the bullets had been just mere hours ago.

"Would you like some help?" Vasquez offers, standing up from the chair before leaning over Faraday to try and give him some support and another leg to lean on.

"If you'd be so kind, muchacho," Faraday admits to needing help, shivering a bit as a draft in the room chills his still bare torso.

Doc Charles hadn't thought Joshua Faraday needed to ruin another shirt and vest if his side or chest started bleeding again. The impulsive Irishman's pants could be worn for a few more days; they unfortunately had a patch and streak of blood trailing down the right leg, most likely a side effect of being shot in the kneecap.

"Of course, hermano," Vasquez softly assures, gently wrapping one hand around Faraday's wrist and using the other hand to push up equally as gently on Faraday's back to bring the injured gambler to a sitting position.

"Stop usin' words I don't know, Vas!" Faraday laughs good-naturedly, even though his leg is protesting heavily as Vasquez manages to get him standing up, though mostly the usually drunk Irishman is leaning heavily on the Mexican gunslinger as they just stand in place.

"Learn Spanish then, Faraday," Vasquez teases with that deep, rumbling laughter following not long after. "Steady," he whispers, wrapping an arm around Faraday's back and shoulders to keep the weight off the critically injured knee.

Vasquez starts to seriously wonder if Joshua Faraday would ever regain the mobility he once had in his right leg. The vaquero hopes with all of his heart; he would never forgive himself if Faraday could never walk without assistance again. He could have swooped Faraday onto the horse sooner and saved the güero's leg…..

"Nah. Too much work," Joshua smirks, and the joke snaps Vasquez back to reality, making him remember he had suggested Faraday should learn Spanish.

"Ay, yi, yi," Vasquez sighs, but then decides he can use conversation to keep Faraday's mind off the pain as they prepare to move towards the door. "It's a wonder you ever learned English, güero," the darker-haired gunslinger jokes, taking two steps with Josh following in step with him, pressing most of his weight against Vasquez or on his uninjured leg.

"I almost didn't, ya know," the blue-eyed gambler reveals, wincing in pain at the sudden explosion of pain in his right knee and thigh.

"Really? No creo. Why?" Vas asks in genuine curiosity and hopefully to keep Faraday from screaming out in pain as they continue to head for the threshold of the room.

So far, so good.

It takes Faraday a little bit longer to answer this time, as the master gambler grits his teeth and focuses mainly on staying upright.

"My mama spoke a lot of Gaelic while I was growin' up," Faraday reveals, thinking back to his childhood where his emerald-eyed, fiery haired mother would teach him to speak the language her parents and grandparents taught her at young Joshua's age. "That's why I can't read very much English worth a lick," Joshua smiles fondly at the memories of his mother- Mary Faraday- and how most of the Gaelic words she taught him had been lost in his years of wandering from town to town after her death when Josh was eighteen.

Mary Faraday had been more focused on if her son could write and talk than she was on if her son could write and talk than she was on if he could read. That's not to say the gambler's mother hadn't cared if Joshua could read; she had assumed the boy's school taught him that skill. The teachers didn't, and by the time Mary found that out, Joshua was ten and had started helping his grandfather around the apple orchard. It was only a year later that Mary's health began to slowly deteriorate and she didn't have enough energy most days to teach the boisterous Joshua Christopher Faraday how to read when he couldn't sit still for more than five minutes.

"I can help you learn to read, güero," Vasquez offers almost too quietly, and the gambler finds himself turning his head slightly to look at the vaquero who is _still_ helping him out of the room.

"Honestly?"

"Sí. Pero, necesitas mucho tiempo y paciente."

"One language at a time, Vas," Faraday requests as a joke as he almost knocks over an end table in the process.

He would definitely be glad when his leg is healed enough in a few weeks where he would at least have some basic coordination back. However, Faraday also is aware that he would always have problems with his shot knee, making it uncomfortable for him to walk long distances on foot, especially over rocky ground or uneven ground.

"I said you will need a lot of time and patience," Vasquez translates, righting the end table before taking the first step into the hallway with Faraday beside him.

"I got plenty o' time to kill since I'm gonna be cooped up in bed for six or eight weeks waitin' on my leg to heal," Joshua Faraday admits as a sigh overcomes his lips as he thinks of the negative repercussions his plan for taking out the Gatling gun had on his own body.

He could have died, _would have died,_ if not for Vasquez' quick reflexes and Goodnight and Billy providing cover for the two of them up in the steeple. Everything anyone had ever said about Faraday's plans were true; they _are_ crazy, impulsive, life-threatening, and often half-baked that Faraday didn't bother thinking about long-term consequences. He just wanted results right then and there. It was definitely one of the few character flaws he would ever admit he had. And even then, he had only admitted such a character flaw to Jack, because the wild stallion could never judge his handler and best human friend in the world. Besides, a horse couldn't go around spilling secrets to others the way a man, woman, or child could.

"And patience?" Vasquez inquires with a grin playing at his lips as they begin their descent down the staircase to head for the outhouse, a mission which is taking far longer than it would in normal conditions.

"Well, patience ain't exactly one of my virtues, but I can try," Faraday smirks, and somehow his joking with Vasquez makes all the pain momentarily subside.

Joshua realizes for the first time in his life, he has a best friend, one that treats him like a brother. And then, after this thought, he starts to take a stab in the dark about what the word hermano must mean. Maybe the gambler knows more Spanish than he gives himself credit for.

"Bueno. I still learn English through books now, so I learn with you, güero," Vasquez admits, thinking to how Billy had caught him reading books when the vaquero thought everyone else was sleeping for the night.

He has been teaching himself English through books, but there are still a few things he feels he needs to learn in order to sound more fluent, and Vasquez is all for learning new vocabulary and more American sayings.

"We gonna be classmates, Vasquez?" Faraday jokes with that same smirk on his face, lips opening in a smile as he shows off his teeth, and Vasquez can't help but roll his dark brown eyes at the Irishman.

"Cállate before I push you down the stairs," he playfully threatens, but he makes this remark in an almost deadpan voice, so it could be interpreted as either a playful jest or an actual threat depending on how Faraday views the situation.

"Fair enough," the blue-eyed gambler concedes, taking the steps as slowly as Vasquez allows him, and once again he thinks of how grateful he is to have this much help, to have a group of friends who treat him like family after only knowing him for a bare week.

They reach the bottom of the stairs and then head to the outhouse where Faraday can complete the task that made him get out of bed in the first place.

On their way back towards the infirmary, Vasquez and Faraday see Red Harvest coming from the stables on the back of his mare Little Creek.

"Where ya off to, Red?" Faraday calls out, and Red Harvest gives a soft command in Comanche to his dappled mare to get her to stop in place.

Red Harvest turns around on the horse's back, thankful that he does not have to worry about the limited mobility of a saddle like the other six of the Magnificent Seven have to.

"I hunt," Red Harvest answers back simply, drawing attention to the bow and arrows slung over his back as the young Comanche warrior prepares to head out into the woods and hunt some smaller game such as rabbits and maybe even a few foul if he could find any birds in the forest surrounding Rose Creek.

"For the men, women, and children of town?" Vasquez asks, knowing that Red Harvest had enough of his own food stock to last a few days since the young warrior came back with a deer the night before which he took great care in rationing out for a few days and nights of meals.

"Yes. Winter comes," Red Harvest comments as he looks up to the sky, noticing the thick clouds that have moved off into the near distance after the heavy rainstorm from last night. "I hunt for meat and return," the Comanche assures, not wanting the outlaw and gambler to think he was going to run away into the woods and never come back again.

"That's mighty thoughtful of ya, Red," Faraday says with a small smile, thinking of just how vastly different Red Harvest is from all the stories he had ever heard about Native American tribes growing up in the South.

"Sí. I'm sure they will appreciate your work, amigo," Vasquez adds in his praises, wanting to make sure Red Harvest know that even if the townspeople of Rose Creek never thanked him for his work that it was none the less greatly appreciated.

It seems to the outlaw some days that everyone in town other than Emma, Teddy, and the Preacher that no one seems to know all of the Magnificent Seven's names and mostly ever only talk about "Sam Chisolm and his men".

"I have decided to stay," Red Harvest announces, a bit of an accent on his English, but the young warrior none the less communicates well in English regardless of it not being his first language.

"Really?" Vasquez questions, not expecting the young Comanche to just up and leave his tribe and way of life for a permanent or extended amount of time.

He hadn't really been able to understand Red Harvest's first conversation with Sam because it was in Comanche, so that may have caused the Mexican gunslinger to miss a few crucial details he needs to know about the warrior and youngest member of the Magnificent Seven.

"For a time," the Comanche amends his previous statement, but that just causes more confusion amongst his two brothers in arms as they are not quite sure what the "for a time" extension is supposed to mean.

"What do ya mean?" Faraday inquires, face turning into one of confusion, one of his eyebrows rising higher on his forehead and closer to his hairline.

"I don't like towns. Too trapped," Red Harvest admits simply, as if the answer is the most obvious in the world as he pets Little Creek's neck with one hand, causing the grey mare to nicker softly.

"So, you're like Jack then," the gambler connects the two more solitary members of the Magnificent Seven to one another, at least that's who Vasquez is assuming Faraday is speaking about.

Surely the Irishman wouldn't be comparing Red Harvest's idea of freedom and security to that of a _horse._ Vasquez knows that the güero has an unbreakable bond with the stallion, but surely he would compare Red Harvest to the horse that has killed men before and just so happens to share a name with Jack Horne. If that isn't a coincidence or some form of the world playing a joke on them, then Vasquez isn't sure what would be.

"Yes. I am wild at heart," Red Harvest admits, thinking of what the elders told him when they told him his path is different and that he must go into the world to find said path and connect his destiny with that of others like him. "I need space and nature," the young warrior explains, feeling the wind carry through his black hair and around his face and neck.

Off in the distance, birds chirp and the Comanche can almost be certain he hears an elk calling in the nearby area in one of the forests surrounding Rose Creek.

"But, will you stay with us, Red Harvest?" Vasquez gently poses the question, wondering if their chance to befriend and accept the Comanche into the group has come and gone and they wouldn't have been able to gain the young man as a friend, ally, and close brother.

"Yes. I will," he answers back, smiling gently as he begins to kick his heels lightly against Little Creek's flanks to get his trustworthy mare to begin her path towards the woods where he could go hunting.

"How long?" Faraday decides it's his turn to ask a question, and he winces slightly in pain as his wounded leg starts to buckle under him and almost flings him to the ground if it was not for Vasquez offering him a steady shoulder to lean on.

"You need more rest, güero," Vasquez softly comments, wanting to wrap up the conversation where he could make sure Joshua Faraday makes it back upstairs before the vaquero has to go and help Emma out in the fields like he had promised probably close to the time he told her he would be outside.

" 'm fine," Joshua argues, leaving out the I in the sentence as he sinks his teeth into his own lips to keep from screaming in anguish as he leg begins to torment him the longer he stands up like this.

He's going to need some serious physical therapy if he ever wants to be able to walk out of Rose Creek on his own two feet without having to need Vasquez' arms wrapped around his back and shoulders like this. Not that he isn't grateful for the vaquero's help, because he is, but Joshua has never been one to depend on others to do something for him, and he thinks he should be able to do something as simple as walk on his own.

"Forever if I may," the youngest member of the Magnificent Seven answers the question Faraday had given him not more than forty-five seconds ago, though to Joshua's aching leg, that question feels like it came hours ago.

"Well, that sounds just great, Red Harvest," Sam's voice startles both Vasquez and Faraday in varying degrees as Vasquez places one hand on one of his guns while Faraday narrows his eyes and looks around for a threat, only to come face to face with Sam. "Faraday, shouldn't ya be in bed?" Sam remarks in that fatherly, no-nonsense tone that Goodnight Robicheaux has had to hear almost every day he and Sam have journeyed together since the day they met after the Civil War was over.

The others, especially Faraday, are not used to this tone of voice yet, so of course Faraday has to come up with one of those sarcastic and witty comebacks he is famous for giving as a response.

"Needed to visit the outhouse, Sam," Faraday fixes Sam with a smirk, and the duly sworn warrant officer doesn't look amused one bit, and Joshua finds himself wondering just what exactly it takes to make Sam Chisolm laugh.

"Well, you best get upstairs and get some rest, especially for that leg 'fore I drag you upstairs myself and send Billy to watch you and make sure you actually do rest," Sam threatens with a glint in his eyes and a small smile playing at the bounty hunter's lips.

Faraday shudders at that image of having Billy as his babysitter of sorts instead of Vasquez, and just that image is enough to send shivers up anyone's spine. Having a knife-wielding assassin watching over you is not the kind of medical help Joshua Faraday would consider to be helpful or put someone's mind at ease as he or she is supposed to be healing.

"Come on, muchacho. I got a bit of a nap to catch up on," Faraday jokes, though Vasquez is aware of the pain in the gambler's leg as he seems to wince or hop any second even just a fraction of his body weight is placed on the shot limb.

"Bueno. I'll see you at dinner later, Sam. Red Harvest, buena suerte on your hunt," Vasquez responds gently, turning slowly on his heel in order to begin leading the wounded Irishman back upstairs to the infirmary room.

Red Harvest offers a nod while Sam gives a tip of his black Stetson and both the warrior and warrant officer head their separate ways to either hunt or help repair the town.

Footsteps echo on the stairs near Billy and Goodnight's infirmary room, and Billy rolls his eyes at the sudden loud noise. What good is a place for _resting_ when he can't get any _actual_ rest? Between having to share a room with the ever-talkative Goodnight- who is currently going off on a rant on how no one understands the fine works of Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, or Ralph Waldo Emerson to name a few authors- and then the constant influx of doctors, nurses, and the very loud and undeniably clear rants and banters between Vasquez and Faraday at all hours of the night, Billy is not sure how much rest he has actually gotten in comparison to just simply shutting his eyes and _pretending_ to sleep.

"Who is it?" Billy whispers, throwing Goodnight off his rant on why the people of Rose Creek should read and appreciate the works of Ralph Waldo Emerson and how when his leg starts to heal up, he is going to stand in the middle of town and begin reciting Shakespeare where the children could get a start to a formal education like the one Goodnight received in New Orleans.

Billy knows he'll have to hear how it was downright disrespectful for him to interrupt Goodnight's speech when he was talking this passionately about the great literature of the authors he has grown up with and grown to love.

Goodnight, being closer to the door than Billy is, sticks his head as far as he can to try and see outside the door into the hallway to do some spying for himself and Billy.

"Teddy," Goodnight whispers, an almost unreadable expression on his face as Billy has to restrain from groaning and throwing something across the room.

As it is, Billy rolls his dark brown eyes as he thinks of the associate Teddy Q. that seemed to follow Emma everywhere like some sort of shadow or very sad animal of sorts.

"Tell him I'm sleeping," Billy begs, not wanting to talk to anyone right now, especially not the usually awkward and downright annoying to the assassin for more personal reasons than anything else.

The farmer by the name of Teddy Q. had abandoned Billy's knife class after all.

Billy forgives no one who abandons his knife classes.

Especially not his Knife 101 class that had been toned down just for the beginners in Rose Creek.

Amateurs.

"Billy, you're not sleeping," Goodnight deadpans, not seeing why Billy is stating something as untrue as that statement he made.

"Pretend I am. If you were quiet, Goody, I could be," Billy sasses, closing his eyes as he hears Teddy's loud footsteps getting closer.

"I'm not going to _lie_ to the boy, Billy!"

"Please? Just this once!"

Billy shuts his eyes quickly, hearing Teddy start to enter the room, rather loudly Billy might add.

"I thought y'all might be hungry," Teddy speaks up as he fumbles into the room over towards Billy's bed, and Billy feels as if the world must hate him right now since Teddy, accident prone Teddy, is carrying a tray of glass and food over the bed.

What a horrifying thought, indeed.

"You were wrong," Billy says in a deadpan, expressionless voice that Teddy has had the _fortune_ of only hearing this tone of voice.

He couldn't pretend to sleep when the possibility existed that Teddy could spill food and drink all over him and make him even more miserable.

"I'm hungry, Teddy," Goodnight speaks up, relieving Billy of having to talk to Teddy since it's clear the assassin cannot stand talking to the gentleman caller of Emma Cullen.

"You just ate four pieces of bread and some breakfast potatoes, Goody," Billy reminds, one eyebrow raising as he looks at his best friend.

"I'm always in the mood for more bread, Billy. You should know this about me."

Teddy just stands there awkwardly, not sure whose orders he should follow: Billy's or Goodnight's. Both have strong opinions, and both would be terrible men to wrong in fear that they may have some form of retaliation.

"Fine. Give him the bread and then leave, Teddy. I need to sleep."

Teddy complies and then leaves the room, leaving Goodnight eating his new bread rolls happily as Billy just sighs in relief and prepares to actually go to sleep for a change since he has been cooped up in the infirmary with nothing of interest to do other than listen to Goodnight ramble on about who knows what half the time and they receive visits from Sam, Vasquez, Red Harvest, and Emma from time to time when they are not busy fixing the town, caring to others' injuries- such as Faraday's more extreme ones- or sleeping and taking care of themselves.

"There was no need to be rude, Billy," Goodnight scolds gently, clicking his tongue against the inside of his cheek while taking another bite of bread in process. "What did poor Teddy Q. ever do to deserve the wrath of Billy Rocks?" the sharpshooter jokes, and Billy glares at him from his bed across the room.

"He abandoned my knife class," Billy simply states, curling his arms around a pillow and sinking down into the blanket and sheets to prepare to take a nap since Goodnight would no doubt continue on his literature rant or read the book Vasquez had taken from the table for the Cajun earlier in the morning.

"Fair enough of a reason, then," Goody smirks, and Billy makes an affirming noise that means he is glad Goodnight sees it his way and not in favor of Teddy Q.

With that, Goodnight turns his attention to reading while Billy takes a catnap since Goodnight had been up nearly half the night trying to convince Billy that the Korean had worse wounds and that Billy and the others should not worry about him so much, regardless of his broken foot. Billy didn't understand why Goodnight was so averse to others helping them, especially when said others contained Sam and Billy.

Night falls on Rose Creek hours later, and Red Harvest takes dinner up to Jack Horne as the mountain man calls for his newly proclaimed adopted son.

"Red, can you fetch me a blanket from downstairs, please, son?" Jack inquires in that high-pitched voice of his, but he sounds more tired than usual, no doubt due to his muscles feeling more strained and weaker today since he had four arrows jabbed in various places in his body yesterday during the end of the Battle of Rose Creek. Horne's chest and side don't hurt as much as his hand does, but a brief layer of scar tissue is starting to form on his hand, which is a good sign in that his hand will make at least a semi-recovery in the time that it takes for Goodnight's broken foot to heal and the time Faraday must go through physical therapy and allow his bullet wounds to heal as completely as they could.

"I can," Red Harvest replies quickly and is out of the room to grab another blanket for the oldest of the Magnificent Seven before Horne even has time to blink an eye.

The young Comanche can move quicker and more stealthily than any other person Jack Horne has ever met, and that includes the mountain man and famous tracker himself. Red Harvest returns after a few seconds, bringing back a stitched quilt that Emma had put on the desk in the hallway in case one of the men needed it. He had run into Sam who was going into Faraday's room to watch over the gambler while he sleeps, because Sam refused to let Vasquez sleep in that hard-wood chair two nights in a row and hardly get any sleep because of the awkward sleeping angle it provided. The three of them and Emma were going to take shifts on who watched Faraday each night, but tonight, Red Harvest has brought the blankets and pillow from his own hotel room into Jack's infirmary room, resolving that he would sleep on the floor in case the older man needs him for anything. Billy could walk and get Goodnight or himself anything they needed throughout the night, so it was decided by the seven of them that no one else needed to sit up and watch after Billy and Goodnight as they sleep. Faraday would need constant companionship and immediate help sources should the need arise if he began bleeding again or if he needed pain relief throughout the night, so a cycle is being set up between the uninjured three of the Magnificent Seven and Mrs. Emma Cullen since she feels a debt to the people who nearly died to protect her town that they did not necessarily have to agree to save.

"Here," Red Harvest presents the blanket, unfolding it and spreading it over Jack Horne in a similar way to how his mother used to do when if someone got sick when he was back with the Comanche tribe.

"Thank you, Red Harvest. I appreciate ya and all that you do," Jack smiles at the youngest member of the Magnificent Seven. "Now, would you tell me about your day before you go back to the hotel to sleep?" Horne asks in a hopeful tone, just wanting to have some conversation like the ones he used to have with his sons when they were younger before they were savagely murdered.

"I will be with you when the sun rises," Red Harvest assures, wanting Jack to know that he wasn't going to disappear during the night back to the hotel.

"Okay. Well, then tell me about your day and we'll both go to sleep then, Red," Jack fondly instructs, feeling more at ease around the young boy and realizing just how similar he is to Matthew, and yet so different from the oldest of Jack Horne's children.

Red Harvest smiles in the darkness, settling down in his nest of blankets and pillows on the floor to prepare to go to sleep once he tells his tale of the day. Another day ends in Rose Creek, and the healing has started to take its place and the four members of the Magnificent Seven should be back on their feet and on the complete road to recovery in about two or three months' time. It would be challenging, but as long as they have their rag-tag family looking after one another, all seven men are sure they can make it through whatever the world throws at them. They are a family, and nothing would ever separate them. Not even the judgement of others would ever tear them apart.

 **Author's Note: And there's Chapter Three! I hope everyone enjoyed; I've been working on this chapter for about two weeks, but I've only had time during class to handwrite scenes and then I had to type it up when I didn't have a lot of homework. I had an all-day field trip with my class to the movies today, so I was able to finish this due to not having a lot of homework tonight. I wanted to continue this chapter, but I thought I had kept all my dear fans waiting long enough, so I decided to post tonight. The next chapter will pick up where I had wanted to continue for this chapter, including Thanksgiving in Rose Creek and a surprise for one of the Magnificent Seven! That's all I'll say about it for now…. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed; thank all of you for the positive feedback through reviews, favorites, and follows! All of you are truly amazing for reading this and coming back to read more! I think that's all I have to say, my dear readers, other than have a good day, afternoon, or night! Until next time!**

 _P.S. I found out that the parking lot at my school is technically another street and is called "Chisolm Trail". Let's just say I fangirled over that for a good ten minutes when I found out my car sits with Sam Chisolm everyday while I'm in school! Oh, and we started talking about Comanche code talkers in history, which made my teacher reference Magnificent Seven to my class! I smiled so hard that my friend said I looked like I had won the lottery. Lol._


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